The Sweet Serpent
by TheYoungestCrazySister
Summary: Ten-year-old Lucy Rivera is a close friend of Jack Frost's. The two spend the winter days ice-skating and having snowball fights, and they even wear friendship bracelets. But when Jack's element unintentionally kills Lucy's parents, things take a terrible turn for the worst.
1. Prologue

Prologue

An eighteen-year-old girl sat in an abandoned room. It looked like it had been a child's room, once before. The walls were painted a faint yellow, the floorboards were rotting, and the room had been stripped of all furniture. The only thing that connected this room to its history was a diary. It had been hidden underneath the floorboards to keep anyone from finding it, never mind reading it.

Now, someone was. It wasn't an invasion of privacy. She had, after all, filled the diary's contents to begin with. Nearly all the pages were smudged with ink, torn, and worn. There was only a small section of untouched pages left, and even that was shrinking by the minute.

The girl wrote as quickly and legibly as she could, her fountain pen flying across the smooth paper like a knight running through the battlefield. Her long, russet hair hung in her face and spilled onto the diary, but she took no notice. She had to hurry. Time was not on her side.

_December 21st, 2012_

_Hello, Diary.  
_

_I know it's been a really, REALLY long time since I last wrote to you, but trust me: you'll forgive me when I fill up every single inch of space you have left. I'm gonna have to write small; otherwise, there's no way in hell I'll be able to tell you everything.  
_

_Man, I feel like such a kid, writing to you like I used to. But...everything's changed. I'm not the girl I used to be. I've done...horrible things. I've killed, scarred, and ruined so much...but I was such a weakling on the inside. If I could take it back, I would, believe me.  
_

_But I can't. And now, I'm going to recieve my punishment. _

_What I **can** do is write everything, from the very beginning._

_It all started eight years ago, when I was only ten years old..._


	2. Chapter 1: Escape from Detention

**Thanks again my followers! I was gonna quit, but when I saw the number of followers, I decided to keep going. Thank you so much! This chapter focuses on my OC's friendship with Jack Frost. Later, Pitch will be involved. No spoilers;)  
**

**PS: This character is fictional, but she's inspired by a person I actually know. Hope you like:)**

**PPS: I'm sorry it took so long, but there were two obstacles in my path: lack of Internet and writer's block. To make up for it, I'll upload as often as I can;)  
**

* * *

Chapter 1: Escape from Detention

_I guess I should start from the day everything changed. It was December 13th, two days after my tenth birthday. Back in those days, I had a couple of friends. But my best friend, the one who knew me inside out, was someone who most people brush off as an expression.  
_

Lucy Rivera's eyes shot open, taking in the darkness around her. Now that it was winter, the sun got lazy. Her alarm clock said that it was 7:10, but by the looks of the sky, it looked more like dawn. Lucy shrugged and crawled out of bed. Instantly, the warmth the covers provided faded, making the girl gasp slightly and hug herself. The difference in temperature was enough to leave goosebumps on her skin.

Still hugging herself, Lucy tip-toed down the stairs and straight to the kitchen. She filled a cup of milk for herself, then stuck it in the microwave. As her daily morning drink warmed up, Lucy made her way to the dessert cabinet. She helped herself to two muffins: one chocolate, one chocolate chip. She'd barely swallowed the last mouthful when the microwave beeped. Lucy grinned to herself and pulled out the steaming cup. Taking caution at making any noise, she crept back up to her room. As she placed the cup on her desk, frost appeared on her windows.

Totally unaware of the grinning face outside her window, Lucy gathered her clothes and entered the bathroom. Once the door clicked shut, the bedroom window creaked open. An ivory-skinned teenager poked his head into the room, his spiky hair as white as the snowflakes resting on it. His icy-blue eyes darted this way and that as he slithered into the bedroom. Using a long wooden staff to close the door behind him, the boy climbed up the wall, waiting.

Half an hour later, Lucy emerged from the steamy bathroom. Her russet hair, which was cut just past her jaw, was still damp from the shower. Her chestnut eyes were wide and alert, completely free from the sleeping dust she'd found there this morning. She was dressed in black pants, a white sweater, and a black vest decorated with white stars. That vest was practically a uniform for Lucy. She never wore anything (unless one counted her PJ's) without it. Ever since her mom had made it for her three years ago, Lucy took it with her wherever she went.

Jack opened his mouth to scream, 'Boo!' when Lucy smirked, "Hey, Frosty."

Jack dropped the joke with a chuckle. Impressive. She hadn't even turned around this time. He jumped down from the ceiling, "How'd you know it was me, kiddo?"

"I'm a girl and your best friend." Lucy replied, holding up a finger for each explanation, "You do the math."

"Eh," Jack crashed on her bed like he owned it, folding his arms behind his head, "I don't do math."

Lucy grinned, revealing a mouth full of braces, "Then it's a good thing I never ask you for help." She sat down next to the winter spirit, "So, what've you done with yourself since the last time I saw you?"

"You mean since yesterday?"

"Yup."

"Eh," Jack shrugged, "The usual: a couple of snowball fights, went on a date with Tooth, played with Jamie, replaced Bunny's carrots with carrot-shaped icicles, and froze some elves."

At the mention of the Guardians, Lucy brightened. She'd always loved the stories of the guardians of childhood. Her mother had planted that seed of story-loving in her child ages ago, when she'd told Lucy a story every night to keep the nightmares away. But ever since Lucy had learned that it was all real - when her classmate Jamie Bennett, had told her of the battle between the Guardians and the Boogeyman the previous year - her belief had doubled. It had been that belief that allowed her to see Jack Frost, and the two had been thick as thieves ever since.

"Tell me about the Guardians." She begged the boy, "What're their palaces like? What're their helpers like? Do they change appearance according to how others see them, or do they look the same for everyone? Are-"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa." Jack held up his pale hands in a time-out gesture, grinning the entire time, "Slow down there, Metal Mouth. I've already told you all that stuff."

"Yeah, but still!" Lucy rested her chin in her fists, kicking her legs rhythmically in the air, "I love hearing them. You tell them so well..." She played with a lock of her hair, "Could you take me there one day? At the Pole?"

"I wish I could, squirt." Jack replied sincerely, "But I can't. Humans can't go to the Guardians' homes. It's just not allowed."

"By who?" Lucy tilted her head, as she always did when she was curious about something.

"The Man in the Moon."

Lucy frowned, "The what?"

Jack's grin widened. He loved telling her stories, just as he did for Jamie. But there was something about the way this little girl absorbed every word he told her like a sponge. It had freaked him out a little at first, how she remembered nearly everything he told her. But after a while, he'd grown used to it. The girl had university teachers for parents, so she'd picked up excellent memory from both sides of the gene pool.

Jack sat up on the bed, folding his legs. Lucy mimicked his movements, her eyes luminous with interest. Jack set his staff on the covers beside him and began to weave the tale.

"Basically, back in the Golden Age, there was the first Guardian. He protected kids' dreams against Pitch, since the guy liked turning their dreams into nightmares. Anyway, MiM's family was attacked by Pitch..."

Lucy's eyes widened.

"...and the poor guy found himself alone. But he didn't let what happened ruin his life. Oh, no. He continued to protect kids' dreams, but he found that he needed help after a while. Y'know, with the population growing over the years, there were more kids to protect. Even MiM can't do the impossible. So one by one, he created the Guardians." Jack grinned and patted his chest, "I'm the newest one. Guess Manny decided I was too cool to _not_ be one."

Lucy made a tsk-tsk noise, "I thought you said you refused the first time."

"I did." Jack replied, smiling at the memory, "I froze half the floor. What can I say? After 300 years of being ignored and walked through, I wasn't exactly ready for the big step forward. Besides, the Guardians were all work." He snickered, "And we both know work and me don't mix."

"'Work and I'." Lucy corrected him. Jack scoffed and rolled his eyes, "Grammar Nazi."

"Hey! You don't like me correcting you? Fine; speak properly!" Lucy replied jokingly. She and Jack shared a laugh.

"Lucy!" A voice called from downstairs. The girl frowned in befuddlement, then glanced at the clock. The color drained from her face, "Shoot! It's already eight!" She jumped from her bed and grabbed her Nightmare Before Christmas sweater. Jack watched with amusement as his young friend struggled to put it on. Once that task was accomplished, she snatched her black book bag and slung it over her shoulder.

"Okay, Jack. See you when I get back, okay?" The words tumbled out of Lucy's mouth as she raced out the door. Jack's smirk widened as the door swung shut behind the girl, "See ya!" He shook his head in amazement. Jamie was her age and he was never this anxious to get to school. Lucy vaguely reminded him of the other Guardians: always hard-working and concentrated on her responsibilities.

He was the opposite: while he never forgot that he had to protect the children of the world, Jack Frost avoided duty like the plague. Even as a human, he'd never cared for doing what he had to do. He always put off thinking about his obligations and preferred to dedicate his eternal supply of time to keeping kids' days filled with fun.

In a way, that was why he got along so well with Lucy. They were antipodals, but they were able to feed off each other's quirks, supplying the other with what he/she lacked. Like ying and yang, Lucy often said.

Smiling to himself at these thoughts, Jack reclaimed his staff and got to his feet. With a flick of his wrist, the bedroom window flew open. A cold wind and snowflakes cascaded into the room like winter's breath. Jack grinned and leaned against the windowpane, "Wind! Take me home!"

The wind blew harder, and a cackling Jack flew off like a sparrow.

* * *

"Okay, Claire Collins."

"Present!"

"Zack Withington."

"Present."

"Lucy Rivera."

No reply. The children murmured curiously and eyed the empty seat in the second row. Mr. Thompson, the fourth grade home-room teacher, glanced up from his clipboard just in time to see the classroom door swing open. Lucy, with doughnut sprinkles covering her mouth, poked her head into the room, "Present!"

Several of the kids chuckled and voiced their greetings, but Mr. Thompson barked, "Quiet!" The kids hushed up, staring at their educator sheepishly. Lucy nervously entered the room, brushing the sprinkles off her lips as her teacher stepped forward.

"How generous of you to bless us with your presence, Miss Rivera. Would you like a coffee? Some cookies?" Mr. Thompson asked mockingly.

Lucy's face turned dark red, "I'm sorry I'm late, sir. Both my parents work on the other side of town, and most of the roads were frozen."

"I don't want to hear excuses from you, Rivera!" Mr. Thompson snapped, "This is the fifth time in two weeks that you've been late. I've been lenient, but this is the last straw." He spun on his heel and scrawled a note on his desk, "Today, you're staying in for detention with me. One hour."

"What?!" The word escaped Lucy before she could stop it.

"You heard me." Mr. Thompson growled.

"But I couldn't get here any sooner! It's not fair!" Lucy protested.

"Sit down **_now!_**" Mr. Thompson roared, "Or I'll make it _two_ hours!"

Lucy knew better than to speak. Muttering to herself, she shuffled to her seat. Jamie, who was seated in the desk next to hers, greeted her, "Hey."  
"Hey." Came the dull reply. Just like that, Jamie knew he couldn't leave Lucy like this. She was normally so nice, but he knew that Mr. Thompson specialized in raining on kids' parades. He wanted to at least try to lift his friends' spirits. Suddenly remembering his lunch box, Jamie was struck by inspiration.

A moment later, Lucy felt someone nudge her arm. She glared at Jamie, "What?"

He held up a brownie, "Double fudge?"

Lucy blinked, then cracked a small smile. She took the gooey treat with a nod, "Thanks, JB."

* * *

The school day came and went. While Lucy's mood got a little better, the thought of detention awaiting her at dismissal hung over her like a stormcloud. She'd always been careful to avoid getting detention, since her parents would be disappointed. How would they react when they found out?

Lucy groaned and rested her face on her locker door, relishing in the two minutes she had before dismissal.

Someone knocked on the window, making her jump slightly. Lucy turned in the direction of the noise...and grinned for the first time that day. Slamming her locker shut, she returned Jack Frost's waved salute and opened the window. The cold air whipped at her cheeks like thorns, but she paid it no heed.  
"Jack!" She wrapped her arms around her friend, trapping him in a tight hug. Jack snickered, "Hey, kiddo." He hugged her back, "You ready to make snow men? 'Cuz I whipped up enough snow to make an army of 'em."

Lucy sighed wistfully as she pulled away, "I wish I could, Frosty. But I can't; I got detention."

Jack's eyebrows flew up his forehead, "You?"

"Yes, me." Lucy raked a hand through her short hair, "I hate it."

"Then don't go." Jack answered like it was the simplest thing in the world.

"What?" It was Lucy's turn to raise her eyebrows, "Dude, I can't just _not go_. If I cut school, Mr. Thompson will probably call my parents. I'll be grounded 'til I'm sixty!"

Jack tapped his chin thoughtfully. His icy-blue eyes darted from Lucy to the classtoom door behind her. His lips twisted into a smile, "Leave it to me."

"Oh, no." Jack was gone before Lucy could finish speaking. A second later, frost crawled up the classroom door at an impossible speed. Lucy's jaw dropped as she watched a thin, cyan film form over the door. Then a second, thicker layer of ice coated the first one, and so on. Within seconds, the door had been turned into a six-foot-tall ice rectangle.

Lucy listened as someone behind the 'door' tried to turn the doorknob. "Huh?" Mr. Thompson's voice was barely auricular through the thick ice. But the knocking certainly was. Within seconds, Mr. Thompson was pounding on the door, "Hey, help! Anyone!"

Jack cracked a smile at his handiwork and blew on his staff for good measure. "Now, come on." He held out a hand to Lucy, whose eyes widened.

"You're serious?"

"Yeah. Hurry up, before someone hears him!"

"But what if someone _doesn't_ hear him?" Without waiting for an answer, Lucy darted to the hallway. At that moment, the bell rang, indicating the end of school. As the kids poured out of their classes, Lucy saw some of them stopping and listening.  
There. Surely someone would hear him now, right?

Feeling better, Lucy turned back to her friend, "Okay, let's go."

"That's better." Jack nodded approvingly as Lucy accepted his hand.

The two swooped into the winter sky.


	3. Chapter 2: Icicle

Chapter 2: Icicle

"I still can't believe we managed to pull it off!" Lucy stated for the fifth time that afternoon. Jack rolled his eyes and lazily waved a hand. The thin ice on his pond curdled until it was thick as cement. "I know. I'm the freakin' genius here, aren't I?"

Lucy snorted as she struggled to get her skates on, "Yeah, dream on, Frostbite."

A snowball nailed her in the back of the head. "Ow!" She spun around to see Jack standing idly by the pond, his hands in his sweatshirt pockets and whistling a tune.  
She smirked, "Oh, you are **_so_** dead!"  
"Is that a challenge, Brace Face?" Jack countered, his eyebrow raised.

"You bet it is!" With her skates still on, Lucy made a quick snowball and threw it at Jack. Two hit her: one in the arm, the other in the chest. A fight raged on; the friends' delighted screams and yells echoed through the evergreen forest as snowballs sailed through the cold air. Lucy was covered from head to toe in snow and her teeth were chattering, but she didn't care. She was having the time of her life. Jack might've won (as usual), but he didn't rub it in her face or use any of the advantages he had. The snowball war continued until the shadows began to grow, contrasting the white, glittering snow. Lucy was having so much fun, she never even thought about going home.

She and Jack lay on their backs, panting and laughing. Their breaths came out in smoke-like puffs as Lucy said, "Now _that's_ a snowball fight."  
Jack chuckled and shifted positions. He was now lying on his side, his cheek in his palm, "Maybe you can teach your dad a thing or two. I've seen the guy make a snowball." He winced jokingly, "They looked more like frozen mangos."  
Lucy giggled, "Are you still gonna teach me howtta skate?"  
Jack smirked, "Depends; can you keep up with me?"  
"Of course!" Lucy jumped to her feet. Pretty impressive, considering how breathless she'd been a moment ago. When Jack stayed where he was, Lucy said, "What're you waiting for, Winter Solstice? C'mon, movvit!" She grabbed him by the ankles and dragged him towards the pond. Jack found himself laughing mirthfully, "Okay, okay! I'm moving!"

Refusing to wear skates himself, Jack spent the next couple of hours teaching the ten-year-old girl how to ice skate. It was then and there that the Guardian of Fun learned that teaching is much more challenging than learning. For the whole first hour, Lucy kept slipping and losing her balance; it was only thanks to Jack that she avoided getting a serious injury. By the time Venus appeared in the purple sky, though, things were looking up. As the sky became the color of an eggplant, Lucy was able to skate around the pond without Jack's help. At the end, she felt a boost of self-confidence and tried a jump figure skaters frequently did.

Oh, man. Jack didn't want to think about how much that would hurt if she failed. She might even crack a rib.

"Whoa, hey!" Jack stepped forward to help his friend...and stopped. Lucy twirled through the air for half a second before landing on the skates, just barely keeping her balance. The winter spirit couldn't believe his eyes. He'd been hoping that Lucy could skate at the end of this lesson, but he never would've imagined she could do **_that!_** Jack's thin chest swelled with pride and joy as his little friend cheered.  
"Jack! Jack!" She made it to the edge of the frozen pond, where she yanked her skates off, "Did you see me?! Did you see what I did?!"

"Heck yeah I saw it! Come here!" Jack picked Lucy up like she was weightless and tossed her in the air. Lucy squealed with laughter as the teenager set her back on the ground. "I had the best time!" She grinned, "Can we do it again tomorrow?"

"Sure." Jack ruffled Lucy's short hair, "But I think you should be getting home. I had to deal with your teacher; I don't want to have to sneak past your parents, too."

Lucy looked at the sky, and her smile slipped off her face. "Oh, God! You're right!" She forced her snow boots back on and began rushing out of the forest. Jack hovered near her, smirking as she babbled: "Oh man! Mom's gonna kill me! What if they're already out looking for me? What if they sent helicoptors? 911? The Marines?!"

"Lucy." Jack put a pale hand on his friend's head, "Calm down. I'll give you a ride. You'll be home in a heartbeat, okay?"  
"O-okay." Lucy calmed down somewhat, but when Jack made no effort to call the wind, she grew anxious, "Well?!"

"I wanna give ya something first." Jack said, making Lucy groan out loud. Turning a deaf ear to her moans, Jack reached into his sweatshirt pocket and pulled out a small, teal fabric bag. Lucy momentarily forgot her tension. Curiousity took its place. She pointed at the bag, "What's that?"

Jack's smile widened as he tossed it in Lucy's hands, "Open it and find out."

Lucy returned his grin and untied the ribbon keeping the bag closed. She spilled its contents into her palm...and gasped in delight. There, sitting in the middle of her black mitten, was a bracelet made entirely of crystals. Each crystal was shaped differently; one looked like a tooth, another resembled a staff, another a snowman. Before Lucy's eyes, two crystals that had previously been shapeless (or at least didn't resemble anything) took on forms. One looked like an icy door, and the other a ballerina.  
Lucy caught on immediately. "This charm bracelet...it's made up of everything we've ever done together."

Jack clapped, "_Brava_. No wonder you skipped a grade last year."

Lucy smiled proudly, "That _was_ cool, wasn't it?" She slipped the arm band on. Once it was around her wrist, the bangle tightened. It wasn't uncomfortable, but Lucy knew it wouldn't be coming off anytime soon.

"I had a charm put on it." Jack explained, "It'll accomodate your wrist as you grow so it won't get too tight, and every time we do something new together, a new charm'll appear."

"Jack..." Lucy trapped her friend in a tight hug. She couldn't help it, even if her mother had told her thousands of times that boys didn't do hugs. The fact that the winter spirit had spent who knows how much time making this enchanting armlet for her, and even gone through the trouble of putting a spell on it, filled Lucy with a warm feeling. It made her feel that much closer to him, and only an embrace could describe how she felt.

Jack returned the hug, a soft smile on his face, "I guess that means you like it?"

"I love it." Lucy pulled away, "But why'd you go through the trouble of making this?"

"Ah, well, y'know," Jack looked away, rubbing the back of his neck, "I mean, time passes, and you'll grow while I won't. And I guess...well, you get the picture."

Lucy understood, even if it saddened her. Jack had spent 300 years in solitude before becoming a guardian. While his believers were steadily growing, Jack couldn't deny that they would eventually grow up, put childish things aside, and live their lives as adults. The guardians were lucky if teenagers believed in them, and even those were rare cases.  
Lucy herself was no exception to the rule. While the future was about as predictable as summer rains, she couldn't abjure that she will come to stop believing in the stories she grew up with. Once that happened, she would no longer be able to see the guardians.

That included Jack.

That's why he'd made her this trinket. So she wouldn't forget him, even if she one day stopped seeing him. Lucy held onto him for a second longer, just for good measure.

Then, she pulled away with a smirk, "Alright, that's enough touchy-feely stuff. Take me home, Frosty."  
Jack grinned, "Sure thing." He was about to summon the wind when Lucy's phone vibrated in her pocket.

"Dang it." Lucy fished her phone out of her pocket, "It's probably Mom." When she checked the screen, though, she frowned, "Aunt Violet? She never calls."  
She answered the call, "Hello?"  
A pause. Then, Lucy's confused expression worsened,"W-what's going on, Auntie? Why're you..?"  
Jack felt a pang of concern. He leaned forward, trying to hear what was being said. All he could hear was a woman sobbing horribly, like her child had just died in front of her.

"Lucy...it's your parents." The woman managed to say between wails, "The road...i-it was frozen and..."

Lucy went deathly still, as though someone had just frozen _her_. Jack felt like a cold, bony hand had just squeezed his heart. He saw the events unfolding before him, even if he desperately wanted to look away. One term stood out against the rest, staring at him guiltily.

Frozen roads.

Jack subconsciously glanced at his staff, the instrument that channeled his powers and made his frosty fantasies a reality. Because of the power coursing through this seven-foot piece of wood, millions of kids got snow days and got to make snow angels, snowball fights, snowmen, and ice-skate.

But it also caused blizzards people got stuck in - and died in - when help failed to come. It caused ice, which people could very well fall through and drown.

And of course, it froze roads by the dozen. Cars couldn't drive on frozen roads, especially in a snowy season such as this.

Jack suddenly felt like his heart was made of lead. He put a hand on Lucy's shoulder, "I..."

Lucy jumped away as though she'd been burned. Jack felt that weight in his chest constrict, threatening to smother him. She was already distancing herself from him.

Without a word or a glance, Lucy raced back towards Burgess, leaving only footprints behind.


	4. Chapter 3: Ends and Tears

Chapter 3: Ends and Tears

"You really don't know where she is?" Violet Rivera asked her son Marco for the third time that evening. The 18-year-old griped, "No I don't, Mom. I checked the elementary school, the library, the bookstore, and her house. She wasn't there."

"But I called her half an hour ago! People can die in half an hour!" Violet protested.

"In fact, _two_ people died in _one hour_." Marco noted drily as he played with his nose ring. Violet smacked him in the head, making him wince and massage his scalp. When he turned to his mother with an insult on his lips, he stopped. His mother's hazel eyes burned angrily, and her hands were clenched into fists. "One more word out of you, you man," Violet hissed, "And I'll beat you senseless. Understood?"  
Marco gulped, all the while trying to hide it. His mother had never laid a hand on him, but he'd seen her get aggressive. Once, she'd hit her own husband - his father. The couple had divorced right after that. Marco could understand that. How can a man call himself such when his woman (who was barely five-foot-two) had been able to make him lose two teeth?

Violet was not a woman to be underestimated. Marco knew that, which is why he thought better than to talk back.

She nodded in grim satisfaction, "Good."

The hospital door swung open. Lucy stood there, completely soaked from head to toe. Her black cap was caked with melting snow, her russet hair was damp, and her coat was dewy. Her boots were coated in mud and slush.

"LUCY GUILIA RIVERA!" Violet jumped out of her chair and grabbed her niece's shoulders. She shook the little girl as hard as she could, "What in the name of God _were you thinking?!_ I sent Marco out to search for you! He looked everywhere and didn't so much as find your _shadow!_ Are you _trying_ to make me mad with worry?"

"Aunt Vi, _please_." With some effort, Lucy detached herself from her aunt's grip, "I was with...a friend. Anyway, I'm here now." The little girl paused at the word 'friend'; while she still felt undeniably close to Jack Frost, she found it hard to consider him a confidant right now. Even though she doubted that this had been Jack's intention, she had to face facts: if it hadn't been for the newest guardian (or at least if he hadn't been so indiscreet), her parents wouldn't be fighting for their lives a few hallways away.

Her melancholy and fear must've been clear, for Aunt Violet's round face softened. Putting an arm around her niece's shoulders, the woman turned to her son, "Marco, get your cousin a hot chocolate."  
Marco opened his mouth to protest, then happened to notice an immodestly-dressed girl next to the vending machine. She caught his eye and winked. Marco felt his face turn bright red as he cleared his throat. Running a hand through his dark brown hair, he tried to look as casual as possible as he replied, "Sure, no problem."

Lucy smiled at Marco's retreating back. The two cousins had only seen each other a couple of times, but those had been sufficient to conclude that they could never be friends. Marco like naked girls, clubs, and piercing. Lucy liked skating, books, and winter. They didn't share similar tastes in anything, be it music, food, or films. And quite frankly, it wasn't a huge loss for Lucy: she found her cousin to be boring anyway. In the year she'd known Jack, on the other hand, she'd come to consider him an older brother. After all, they'd spent countless days playing together, and he'd been there to listen to her when she had problems.

Lucy shook her head, trying to clear away her thoughts. She didn't want to think about Jack right now. She had to focus on what was important.

"Well?" She asked as her aunt guided her to a chair, "What happened?"

Violet sighed, taking a moment to gather her strength before meeting her niece's eyes. "This afternoon, both your parents recieved a call. It was your teacher, Mr. Thompson."

Lucy's eyes widened. Oh, boy.

"He said you disappeared from campus before the end of the day. So your parents called me and told me to go to your house in case you showed up."  
"But why didn't they just call me?" Lucy's voice cracked, but she didn't care.  
Violet looked at Lucy like she was a much younger child, "Honey, they just got you that phone a couple of days ago. With everything they've been doing at the university, they didn't have time to copy down your number on their own phones. I only had your number because it was on the school directory." She wiped her eyes, "Anyway, they were driving towards your school when...when the road they reached was totally frozen and..." Tears filled her eyes, "...And another car smashed into your car and...and your car tumbled down the hillside..." She dabbed at her eyes, unable to continue. Lucy rubbed her aunt's back, trying to hold back her own tears.

The little girl kept quiet, but in reality, a storm was raging within her. It was a cyclone of fear, panic, and above all **_guilt_**.

This was all her fault. Whatever happened to her parents, the people who'd brought her into this world, was solely her fault. If she had simply gone to detention like she should have, then her parents wouldn't have left work early. They never would've crossed paths with that other car...

Lucy wiped her wet cheeks angrily. Now was not the time to cry. She had to be strong for them. She had to show them that she wasn't going to bawl her eyes out. What if they turned out to be alive? They would probably laugh at her overreaction.

The two women sat in a tense silence, concern and mournfulness hovering over them like a thick mist.

A doctor poked his head in, "Mr. and Mrs. Rivera?"

"Oh, yes!" Violet jumped to her feet, wiping her eyes (and smearing mascara onto her cheekbones). "Mr. Rivera is my younger brother." She looked at the doctor pleadingly, "Well? How are they?"

"I..." The doctor began to speak, then sighed and massaged his temples. Not a good sign. Lucy braced herself for the worst.

"I'm afraid..." The doctor shook his head sadly, "They had a pretty bad fall, those two. Even if they were in the car, they had a sixty-meter fall and landed on the roof. Into a _tree_. Both your brother and sister-in-law are suffering from severe bleeding of the brain. We don't think they'll make it 'til morning. I am truly sorry."

The two females reacted in the opposite way that was expected of them. Violet began to cry while Lucy just closed her eyes, refusing to so much as whisper.

* * *

"You're staying with us for the time being, okay hon?" Violet croaked as her car parked in front of the Rivera residence.  
"Who's we?" Came the quiet reply.  
"Me, your uncle Franko, and your cousin Marco. You'll stay with us for now, okay?" Violet was trying hard to make this sound pleasant, but they both knew it was impossible. Still, her efforts only made Lucy respect her more. The little girl nodded, "Okay. I'll get my stuff."  
"Take your time." Violet told her, "Franko's cooking tonight, and he usually takes hours to just get the groceries. There's no need to rush."  
Lucy's grip on the handle loosened. "Do you wanna come in for a hot chocolate or something?"  
"Oh, no." Violet smiled sadly at Lucy. Even in the dim orange light of the lamppost, Lucy could see the tearstains on her aunt's cheeks.  
"Thank you, darling. But after the news tonight, going in the house I grew up in with Tomasso..." She shook her head, "I'm fine here. Really."

Lucy nodded, "I won't be long."  
With that, she exited the car and walked to her front door. As she fumbled with her keys, Lucy heard a soft pitter-patter on the roof tiles.

Like a pair of bare feet.

Biting back her anger, Lucy entered the house and slammed the door behind her. Flicking on the lights, Lucy dumped her coat on the couch. She stomped up the steps and was in her room a minute later.

Without giving herself time to stop and think about the day's miserable events, Lucy made a beeline for her closet and pulled out the black luggage she always used on vacations. Dumping it on the bed, she began to neatly fold her clothes on her desk. Tears gathered in the corners of her eyes as she packed her clothes - everything from skinny jeans to underwear, all black in color - into the luggage. Next, she packed her books and laptop. She was just zipping up her bag when Jack called, "Uh...hey."

Lucy pretended not to hear him. She just flipped her hair out of her eyes and pulled her luggage off her bed.  
"Here," Jack stepped into the room, "Let me help you with that-"

Lucy slapped his hand away. That couldn't have hurt an immortal, but Jack retracted his hand as though he'd been stabbed. He stared at his friend with wide, confused eyes. Lucy glared at him, "You've done more than enough, thank you very much."  
Jack frowned, "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means," Lucy hissed, "That if you'd been more careful with that thing-" she gestured to Jack's staff, "-then maybe my parents...oh, God, my parents..." She hid her face with her hands. Pained whimpers escaped her. Jack stepped forward as if to embrace her, but Lucy shoved him away. Her glimmering eyes locked with his, "This is your idea of 'fun'? By totally forgetting what you can do? By disregarding the consequences?" She shook her head, "I never should've listened to you. It's my fault as well as yours."

"No, Brace Face!" Jack knelt down so he was at her level, "Look, it was my fault. It was totally my fault. I never thought that something like this would-"

"Yeah, that's your problem, Frost!" Lucy shot back, "You don't think! And because of that - and because of my disobedience - both my parents are dead!" Lucy began to cry at the last word. Jack had never felt so...attacked, so defenseless. He felt responsible for this tragedy, but still...he never imagined Lucy would react this way. He'd spent far too much time in isolation.

"Lucy..." He had to try. Just one more time, he had to try to save their friendship. It couldn't end this way.

"Just forget it! Just go!" Lucy yelled, waving at her open window, "'Cuz I've had it with you and-and your guardians! Where were they when my parents died? Where the heck were they?!" Lucy was unable to hold herself together any longer. She fell to her knees, sobbing brokenly. Seeing her like this made Jack's heart break right down the middle. All this pain...and his thoughtlessness had caused it.

Even if his mind told him that it was useless, Jack spoke, "Lucy-"

"No!" Lucy yelled, "Just LEAVE!"

Jack took a step back. Then another. He watched her cry and rock herself back and forth, and being the cause of such affliction hurt more than any physical wound could.


	5. Chapter 4: Fear Itself

**Heads up: Pitch appears in this chapter! Hope you enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter 4: Fear Itself

The next few weeks were among the loneliest and most miserable Lucy could ever recollect.

For one thing, her new family lived on the edge of Burgess, so she couldn't visit any of her favorite places in town (like the library, Starbucks, and the playground). It was a miracle that she was able to continue going to school; well, to be exact, she was only able to attend a school ten miles away because her uncle worked as a janitor there. But since it was so much farther away, Lucy had to wake up even earlier than before. She had nightmares nearly every night as well, so she found herself repeatedly risking to fall asleep in class.

Then, her uncle, aunt, and cousin were not exactly supportive. Her aunt managed to pull herself together long enough to cook and clean, but she spent the rest of the time crying in her bedroom. Lucy didn't expect any comfort from Aunt Violet. How could she support Lucy when she could hardly support herself?  
Still, Lucy tried to ease her aunt's suffering by helping around the house. She kept her room tidy (much like she did in her previous house), washed the dishes, and did the laundry. Lucy was bored to no end at doing these chores, but she still felt obligated to at least pitch in. With her cousin always away, _someone_ had to do it.

Lucy may have tried to pretend that everything was alright, but deep inside, she was bleeding. Apart from Jamie, all of her friends drifted away. It was a sad truth in life: oftentimes, friends left you in a time of need because it was easier. Lucy was grateful to Jamie for trying to cheer her up, but she could only spend school hours with him; they lived too far away from each other to arrange playdates. So, Lucy read to pass the time. By the end of her second week in her new home, she'd read all 31 books in the house, including her aunt's fashion magazines and cookbooks. The only articles she refused to read, obviously, were her cousin's Playboy magazines. Writing in her diary helped, too; though there was rarely anything interesting to report.

* * *

_December 28th, 2004_

_Dear Diary,  
_

_It's been 15 days since I moved in with my aunt, uncle, and cousin. And I must say, I'm bored out of my mind. I know it sounds ungrateful of me, but I can't help it. I miss everything from my old life. I guess I never realized how great the little things were until they were gone. I miss the playground. I miss eating out. I miss hanging out with kids my own age. But most of all, I miss Jack.  
_

Lucy groaned out loud and slapped her forehead. She'd told herself not to write his name anymore! How could she be so stupid?! Jack Frost was just as responsible for her parents' deaths as she was. If he'd taken more caution with his power, the roads never would've been frozen.  
Lucy's chestnut eyes filled with tears.  
What did he think would happen if the roads froze like that? That everyone would ice skate through town? Jack Frost was nothing but an irresponsible twit. Even before this, he'd often persuaded Lucy to sneak out with him when she was grounded. Her parents never found out, but that didn't make it okay, did it?

No. That white-haired fool was best forgotten.

Then why couldn't she bring herself to take the bloody bracelet off? Sure, it was tight, but Lucy was doubtless that if she tried cutting the threads or holding her hand over a fire, it would come off. It wasn't rocket science for crying out loud.

But what was stopping her?

Lucy groaned again and hid her face in her hands. Her room was silent as a tomb, but she reveled in it. With the absence of sound, she could make out the commotion in her head. A dozen thoughts buzzed in her skull like gnats, causing her an infernal headache.

Was she really to blame for her parents' demise? What if something happened to her new family as well? Would she be able to prevent it, or would she unwittingly help it occur? Lucy knew all too well that she wasn't powerful like the guardians. She couldn't just snap her fingers and make it all better. She had absolutely no power over what happened to her family.

A desperate sensation fell over Lucy, making her breath quicken and her hands tremble. Lucy frowned in confusion for a moment. This emotion...she'd felt it before, but it'd been so long. It took her a moment to remember what it was. When she did, it only made her feel that much more hopeless.

She'd never been a jumpy person, though she knew she was prone to anxiety. But she knew what this emotion was. It was a feeling that could lead to madness, suspicion, and mistakes. It was something the guardians tried to protect children from. But it was a sentiment that no amount of sweet dreams, candy eggs, toys, or fairies could completely demolish.

It was _fear_.

* * *

Only a couple of miles away from the Rivera residence, deeper into the forest, a figure lay half-buried in the snow. It was a man, tall and lithe, with bruised, pale gray skin and disheveled hair the color of a raven's feathers. He was wearing torn black robes, and his eyes were closed. Black blood stained the ground around him, and traces of black sand were mixed in with the snow.

Anyone who passed by would be most likely unable to see him. And even if they could, they wouldn't help him. Why would they? He was the 'bad guy', the personification of a child's worst fears. He was nothing but an old tale parents tell their children to keep them in their place.

He was Pitch Black, the Nightmare King. Well, he used to be, anyway. Now, he was just a forgotten immortal, left out here by his own Night Mares after months of unspeakable torment. It was only thanks to his perpetuity that he was still alive. But after months of lying in the wilderness with no sustenance, he was reaching his limits.

Something drifted through the air, like a scent. It was undetectable for a human, but for a creature of the night, especially one that fed on fear the same way humans feed on food...

Pitch's eyes slowly opened.

* * *

"Lucy, honey?" Someone softly knocked on the door.

Lucy was relieved she'd been writing in her diary behind the bed, out of sight. She had a second to wipe the tears from her cheeks and tucked her journal in its special place: under a couple of loose floorboards. She rose, trying to look casual, "Hey, Uncle Franko."

Franko, a man in his early fifties with graying dark hair, peered at his niece curiously, "What were you doing back there?"

"Uh..." Lucy held up her charm bracelet. For the first time since that awful night, she was grateful to have it on, "I was examining the charms up close. They were just so detailed, y'know?"

"Yes." Franko agreed, his green-brown eyes gleaming with interest, "Where'd you get it, if you don't mind me asking?"

"A friend gave it to me." Lucy didn't like admitting the truth, since she was trying so hard not to think about that friend. But what else could she say? If she said she'd bought it, Franko would ask where. And she couldn't say she'd just found it, could she?

"Oh?" Franko's bushy eyebrows climbed up his wrinkled forehead, "Jamie?"

"Jamie." Lucy wasn't too worried about this little white lie. If she told Jamie to play along, he would. Who would believe Jack Frost had given it to her?

"Well, this Jamie fellow must care a lot about you, then." Franko grinned, "You're lucky to have a friend like him. Maybe you'll start dating when you're older."

"Uncle Franko! Ew!" Lucy shuddered, sticking her tongue out in revulsion.

Franko chortled heartily, "Just kidding, just kidding!" His expression sobered a little, "I just wanted to tell you that dinner will be ready in around half an hour. Can you set the table?"

"Sure." Lucy nodded. Tucking some short hair behind her ear, she exited her room. Franko ruffled her hair, "Thanks, squirt. I'm gonna hit the shower, so don't come in."

"I won't." Lucy promised him. The two parted ways: Franko went down one small corridor, Lucy the other.  
As she passed Marco's room, which was slightly ajar, a smell hit her nostrils like a brick wall. She coughed and slapped a hand over her nose, trying to block out the odor. What was that? Was something burning, or had Marco forgotten to change his sheets?  
Even though she knew she was going to regret it, Lucy removed her hand from her face and took a tentative sniff. It smelled like burning plastic.

What was her cousin playing at?

Curiosity gripping her, Lucy poked her head into the dark bedroom. She knew she had to be careful: her cousin never let anyone enter his room, not even his mother. Franko sometimes joked that he had to offer Marco breakfast in order to get him out. If Marco caught her sneaking it, he'd wring her neck like a chicken's.

Lucy attentively entered the room, making sure to step over the Doritos and pizza crusts. The mess made her want to gag, but she kept her goal in mind; she had to find out where this smell was coming from. If Marco was burning something, he could very well cause a house fire. And Lucy had just lost her old family; she wasn't going to let anything happen to her new one.

Before too long, Lucy found the source of the smell. It was under Marco's pillow. What, did the Tooth Fairy give things other than quarters now?  
Lucy shook her head to clear it. She couldn't let herself think of the guardians. They'd failed her. They didn't deserve to be thought of.

She reached under the pillow and found plastic. "Ha!" She cheered silently, pulling out the object.

Lucy found herself holding a plastic bag, but it wasn't on fire or anything. But it was filled with a white powder. What was it? Baking soda?

Lucy opened the bag and took a whiff. She nearly heaved at the aroma. This was definitely the source of the stink, but no way could she have smelled it from the hall. Surely there was more of it lying around in here.

But what was this stuff?

Suddenly, a definition clicked into place. She'd heard of this before. Horror filled her, making her nearly drop the bag.  
"It's..."  
"...Cocaine."

Lucy yelped and whirled around, the bag still in her hands. Marco was leaning against the doorframe, staring at her like she was something to eat. The little girl had barely seen her cousin since she'd moved in, and now, she could understand why. Marco had been purposefully avoiding her and his parents, so they wouldn't notice the changes in him.  
Even from here, Lucy could see Marco's dialated pupils.

Marco smirked, "Didn't your mama ever tell you it's not nice to enter someone else's room? It's a good thing I forgot my wallet here, huh?"

Lucy got to her feet, holding the bag like it was a dead rat, "Marco, what the heck're you doing? Do you know how dangerous this stuff is?! It can cause brain damage! Strokes!"

"All I know is, it gives me some excitement." Marco countered, flicking some dust from his shirt, "You think I like being in this shitty little town? I'm bored out of my mind here. I wanna go back to L.A., but no! Mom had to move here to stay close to her brother - your dad!" He held his hands up, "But it's all good, it's all right. 'Cuz now, I know how to liven my life up a little."

Besides being shocked that Marco would actually take this garbage, Lucy was puzzled beyond words. Why was he so calm? She'd just discovered his deepest, darkest secret? Wasn't he worried that she was going to rat on him?

"I ain't too worried about you squealing on me." Marco said, as though he'd read her thoughts. "If I get caught, I'll know who to blame it on, right?"

Lucy felt a sliver of ice form on her spine, but she scoffed, "What, you're gonna hit me?"

"No." Marco shook his head, "But I will tell Mom and Dad about your little 'confession'."

"What're you talking about?" Lucy asked in exasperation.

"Oh, don't act so innocent." Marco scolded her, "I heard you talking to yourself the other day in your room. I heard you say," He pitched his voice so it sounded like a little girl's, "'All died on my account. It was all my fault.'"  
He switched back to his normal voice, a smirk on his face. "It's simple, really. You keep quiet, and I'll keep quiet. Everybody's happy. But," He held up a finger, "If you tell Mom about the coke, I _will_ tell them what you said."

Lucy's blood roared in her ears. Marco wouldn't do that, would he?

But he would. She could see it in the chestnut eyes so similar to hers. Her own cousin, blackmailing her. What would Uncle Franko and Aunt Violet say if they found out? They wouldn't want anything to do with her. She'd be alone. She'd have lost her family again.

Lucy felt herself nod. Then, she dropped the bag and bolted out of the room. Tears trickled down her face.

* * *

Pitch Black staggered through the wood, using a fallen tree branch to support himself. It was impressive, considering he'd been half-dead earlier. But the fear, which was thickening by the hour, acted as his fuel. The more he fed on it, the stronger he felt. Little by little, his gashes closed and his breathing evened out.

He didn't know what child would be this far away from home, but in all honesty he didn't care. This child was oozing fear, both for herself (Pitch was fairly certain it was a female) and for her loved ones. It tasted so fine, like a strong red wine. Pitch dragged himself towards the child, ready to feed off her fears until he was strong enough.

Yes, that was the perfect plan. Find this girl, possibly follow her home, and nourish himself with her deepest intimidations. Once he'd recovered enough strength, he'd go after those guardians.

Oh, yes. They would all pay.


	6. Chapter 5: Nightmares

Chapter 5: Nightmares

After hours of hiking through the snowy woods, Pitch finally reached the source of the fear: a house. Pitch couldn't conceal his surprise at the sight of the two-floor building sitting on the edge of the wood. Why would anyone want to live so far away from, well, _everything?_ Either someone here had a serious knack for the wilderness, or they just preferred to be alone.

As he stepped foot into the yard, the lights began to go out: first the kitchen, then the living room. Pitch smirked. His mere presence killed the lights.

On that encouraging note, the Boogeyman entered the shadow cast by the house as easily as one might enter a room. He was in the upstairs corridor a second later. Pitch knew through experience that bedrooms were normally located on the upper floors.

At least, the children's bedrooms were.

"Here we go." He whispered to himself as he entered the child's room. It was a bit on the small side, with painted yellow walls and well-polished floorboards. There were posters of figure skaters tacked on the walls. The closet had been shoved in the corner, with a basket full of dirty clothes next to it. Directly underneath the window was a writing desk stacked with schoolbooks. A large bed was positioned near the wall without actually touching it.

But where was the child?

"Dang it!"

Pitch was quick to blend into the shadows as the door swung open. A short, thin girl marched into the room and slammed the door shut. She was dressed in a black skirt that reached her ankles and a black-and-white striped shirt. Her russet hair was kept away from her face with a black bandanna patterned with white skulls.

Huh. Pitch had to admit, the kid had good taste. He'd seen many teenagers adopt dark fashion sense, calling themselves 'goth', 'emo', or 'punk'. But he'd never seen someone as young as her dress like this.  
Not bad.

"Stupid Marco!" The girl yelled at no one in particular, "I can't believe he - I - urgh!" She wanted to throw something; her fingers were twitching from the need. But when she realized she had nothing to throw (unless she wanted to break it), the girl slipped off one of her black ballerina shoes and threw it at the wall. Pitch smirked at the force behind the fling. The girl was furious, no doubt about that. It was actually pretty amusing.

"I can't believe it! My bloody cousin is actually doing drugs!" The girl puffed her chest in an attempt to look more boyish, "'Oh, I'm just gonna go out! I'll be back by eleven, Mom! Don't worry!' Urgh!" The girl launched herself on her bed and buried her face in her pillow. Pitch could hear her high-pitched screams even from where he hid.

Wow. The girl had some lungs.

Someone knocked on her door, "Lucy?"

Pitch arched a non-existing eyebrow. So this girl was named 'Lucy', hmm? It meant 'light'. How ironic that a child named 'light' would dress in dark colors.

The girl stopped screaming immediately. In a frenzy, she put her pillow back in its place, grabbed a worn notebook from her nightstand, and opened it on a random page, "Come in!"

A short, plump woman entered the room. Her chestnut eyes were wide with concern. Pitch assumed this woman was Lucy's mother. "Are you alright, hon? You left dinner in quite a hurry."

"I'm fine." Lucy assured her, "I'm just...tired, y'know."

The woman chuckled uncomfortably as she saw down beside the little girl, "I believe that. You've been having a lot of bad dreams lately."

Now, Pitch was interested. Bad dreams? This was very entrancing indeed. Hadn't that fool Sandman granted Lucy sweet dreams? Apparently not. Pitch certainly wasn't behind it; he'd never laid eyes on her before.

Ah, yes. Pitch could feel it the same way a person might smell a delicacy in the oven. Lucy's fear was being fired up again. Oh, how delicious it felt! Even from a distance, Pitch could feel the girl radiating raw fright. The Nightmare King absorbed it like a sponge, relishing in the strength slowly returning. This had been one of his most brilliant plans, no doubt.

"How'd you know about that?" Lucy asked quietly.

The woman smiled sadly, "I can hear you crying in your sleep from my bedroom downstairs."

The child cried in her sleep? Even better! He'd have his strength back in no time!

"I'm fine,! Lucy repeated, annoyance laced in her words, "I just...this hasn't exactly been the easiest time in my life, okay? Just give me a little time and I'll be happy as a clown."  
Pitch snickered. This girl? 'Happy as a clown'? That'll be the day.

Lucy frowned and looked around, "Did you hear that?"

"What?" The woman asked, clearly confused.

"I-it sounded like somebody laughing." The girl answered, like she could hardly believe it herself.

Pitch's amused grin slipped off his ashen face. He almost wanted to hope, but that was an inclination he'd long-ago extracted from his being. But even with his black heart and rationality, the Boogeyman found himself wondering. Had she really...heard him?

After a few, silent seconds, the girl shrugged, "Never mind." She was about to put the notebook away when the woman put her hand on the page it was on, "Hey! Is that Jamie Bennett?"  
The girl stared at the page distastefully, "Yes."  
Pitch felt his stomach churn, like he was going to vomit. Just hearing that kid's name had that effect on him. Jamie Bennett had been the only child to believe in the guardians last year, and it had been thanks to that innocent belief that Pitch's plans had been foiled. He'd been so close to giving those fools a taste of their own medicine, and he'd been beaten by a seven-year-old's belief! It was beyond shameful. Pitch would gut that kid if he had the chance.

"You two look so nice together." The woman smiled at the page, "When was this taken?"

"Around a month ago." Lucy answered quietly, "When it first started snowing."

"Well, why do you look so sad?" The woman asked, putting a hand on Lucy's cheek, "Was it a bad day?"  
"No." Lucy removed her bandanna, "I just...miss Jamie."

The woman sighed, "I know, sweetie. We'll try to find a house that's closer."

Lucy shrugged, then stifled a yawn. The woman flicked a dark curl from her eyes and checked her wristwatch, "Wow, it's late. You should go to sleep."  
"But it's Friday night!" Lucy protested.

"_Bed_, young lady." The woman pointed at the covers. Lucy sighed and reached under her pillow, extracting black-and-red checked pants and a black Nightmare Before Christmas shirt. Pitch, gentlemanly as always, looked away as Lucy changed. He turned back to the two females when he was sure she was done. Lucy reluctantly wriggled under the covers while her mother closed the diary and placed it on the nightstand.  
"Goodnight, sweetheart." The woman kissed Lucy's forehead.  
"G'night, Aunt Violet." Lucy replied, her eyes closing.

Pitch's eyebrows flew up. 'Aunt'? Where was this girl's mother, then? Shouldn't _she_ be the one tucking Lucy in?

"Get a hold of yourself!" Pitch whispered to himself, slapping himself in the face. What on earth had come over him? He was the forsaken _Boogeyman!_ He didn't _worry_ about children! He _scared_ them!

Aunt Violet switched the light off, engulfing the room in darkness. Pitch felt like he was finally able to breathe after being underwater a second too long. He sighed in relief as the woman left the room, closing the door behind her.  
Lucy sat up in her bed, "Is someone there?"

Pitch froze. Now, he was certain of it: she could hear him. Could she see him, too? He'd have to find that out soon, possibly tomorrow.

Lucy waited, clearly for an answer. When she didn't get one, she calmed down a little. Making sure her aunt wouldn't pop in for a check-up, Lucy switched turned her lamp back on. Pitch hissed and burrowed himself deeper into the shadow, annoyance written all over his face. What was that for? Was she going to try to hunt him down?

No, she was merely reaching for her stupid journal again. Pitch supressed a sigh as he watched Lucy open her diary on the page she'd been on a second ago. She stared at it for a second, then detached a photograph that'd been taped there. After a moment's hesitation, she ripped it in two and threw the two halves on the floor. Then, she switched her light off and lay on her side, trying to fall asleep.

Pitch tapped a finger to his lips. Interesting. What did the photo consist of, he wondered?

With his hands behind his back, Pitch strolled out of the shadow. He knelt down and put the two pieces back together. With a flick of his wrist, ebony sand glided from his robes and between the torn edges. In seconds, the photo was good as new.

"Never gets old." He whispered to himself as he picked up the photo and got a good look at it. His golden eyes were accustomed to the dark, so he could see the picture as clear as day.

It showed Jamie Bennett, that little brat, standing next to Lucy. He was clearly laughing in the picture, showing his missing tooth. He even had a handful of Lucy's short russet hair. Lucy was grinning brightly in response, trying to playfully push him away. Both children were standing in a snowy forest, clearly the one outside these walls, and dressed appropriately for the cold weather.

Now, to anyone else viewing the photo, it would have looked like a spec of light (much like the reflection of the sun on water) was near the children. But to a child that believed, any of the guardians, or immortal, Jack was visible; he was bent over slightly, with an arm around each child and a huge smile on his pale face.

Pitch was no different.

He eyed the little girl curled up on the bed. "So," He whispered as he stood up, "You're Jack's little friend, are you?" Suddenly, a thought occured to him: if it was so, why would Lucy tear the picture in two?

Was she...a _former_ friend of Frost's?

Pitch found a surge of excitement fill him up. If this girl really had given up on the guardians, this would be his chance. He could feed her hatred and get her on his side. She was small and weak now, sure, but give her a few years' training and she'd be fierce as a tiger.

If all went well, maybe she could...

Pitch stopped. He didn't want to think about that last part yet.

Straightening to his full height, Pitch walked towards the girl. She looked so troubled, even in her sleep. A frown was planted on her heart-shaped face, and Pitch could see fresh tearstains on her cheeks. As if she could sense someone watching her, Lucy tightened into a ball under the covers.

Pitch almost felt pity for the girl. If only he could take away her heart, or better yet, blacken it. Then, she would be unable to feel pain. He'd been one with the darkness for centuries, and he'd never felt emotional pain.

Feelings. Pah! The only sentiment he truly knew was fear. All the others were totally meaningless.

Gold sand drifted into the room, floating towards the sleeping girl. Pitch sighed and rolled his eyes, ready to see what sort of nauseating dream she would have...

And stopped. The gold sand above Lucy's head turned black, and Pitch hadn't so much as raised his hands from his sides.  
The Boogeyman watched with interest as Lucy whimpered in her sleep. Her nightmare formed above her head. Pitch saw two cars on an icy road; one slammed into the other, sending it skiddering off the road and toppling down the hill. The scene shifted to Jack Frost, laughing and carelessly waving his staff. As he did, blizzards formed, where people froze to death and fell into icy lakes and ponds.

Pitch didn't know why, but this time...he felt a pang of empathy for the girl. So, she really was all alone. No friends, no family. Well, not _her_ real family, anyway. He knew how it felt to be alone, though he'd experienced it at a much higher level. Still, this was quite a lot for a ten-year-old to cope with.

Before he could think twice about it, Pitch reached out and placed a pale gray hand on Lucy's warm forehead. Immediately, the nightmare formed into black sand and crawled into his robes. Lucy sighed in her sleep, a serene expression replacing her troubled one.

Pitch smiled. Or at least, he pulled his facial muscles upward. But he wasn't used to using his face like this, so it was a good thing Lucy couldn't see it. Otherwise, she really _would_ have nightmares.

"Sleep well, young one." Pitch whispered silkily, "You have restored some of my strength to me, and for that I thank you. But I wonder," He cupped his chin with his fingers, "Do you really have what it takes? Can you truly overcome these fears?"

He slowly retreated back into the shadows, "We'll see tomorrow."


	7. Chapter 6: The Locket

Chapter 6: The Locket

Two figures were sleeping soundly, completely undisturbed by the world outside these golden walls. Lucy, relieved from her nightmares, was on her side hugging a pillow, her expression peaceful for the first time in weeks.  
Pitch Black himself slept better than he had in months. Instead of that deep, deathlike slumber, he was snoozing on the trunk at the foot of Lucy's bed, ready to feed off any nightmares she had. The Nightmare King looked almost amicable himself without his signature smirk. A golden locket was resting in his slender hands, opened to reveal a sketch of a young girl.

Outside, the golden rays of dawn slowly took over the world. They came in through Lucy's window and crawled across the floorboards, chasing away the shadows of the night.

A ray touched Pitch's leg, making it roast like a sausage on the grill.

The Nightmare King's eyes snapped open. Quick as lightning, he bolted off the trunk and jumped into the last few shadows, desperate to get away from the light. An allayed smile appeared on his face as he watched the golden light fill the room. He reached under his collar, searching for something. At least he was safe. All he had to do was wait until dusk and...

Pitch's train of thought was cut off. He tapped his hands along his collar and neck, his movements quickening by the second. For the first time in what felt like eons, Pitch felt a small worm of panic form in his chest.  
"Where is it?" He whispered to himself. Where could it have gone? He'd just had it-

Oh, no.

His gold eyes darted to the sunlit room.

His locket was lying face-down on the floor, right next to the trunk he'd spent the night on. "Oh, no." Pitch stepped forward, reaching out to retrieve it, but the sunlight sizzled his hand. The Nightmare King yelped in pain and drew back, hiding his burned hand in his robes. As the pain subsided, anger filled the Boogeyman like a different kind of fire.

Oh, great! Absolutely perfect! He always kept that riviere around his neck, and the one time he takes it off to admire it, he forgets to put it back on! Now, he had to wait until the sun went down in order to reacquire it.  
His most treasured possession - out of his reach.

But it was well in Lucy's reach. Pitch could only trust that the child failed to notice the locket.

Right on cue, Lucy's eyes slowly opened. She noticed the sunlight streaming through the windows, sighed, and rolled on the other side of the bed.

"Lucy! You awake?" Franko's voice called.

The corner of Pitch's mouth went up as he watched Lucy pull the blanket over her head.

"Lucy!" Franko called again, less patient this time.

Lucy groaned under the covers. She threw them aside, "Yeah, yeah! I'm awake!"

"Well, hurry up!" Franko called, "You said you'd come with me to the carpenter's, remember?"

"Yeah, I remember!" Lucy called back as she grabbed her clothes. Again, Pitch looked away as Lucy changed. When he looked again, he saw that the child was dressed in black skinny jeans, a black-and-white checked sweater, and a black vest with white stars on it.  
She was just grabbing her coat when Franko yelled, "Come on! The appointment's at nine!"

"I'm coming!" Lucy hurriedly put her coat on and was about to run out...when her foot hit something metallic.

Pitch winced. Oh, dear. The fat was _really_ in the fire now.

Lucy stopped, a baffled expression on her face. She stopped and looked down, searching for the thing she'd bumped into.

A golden, heart-shaped pendant was lying on its side, attached to a long, glittering chain. Tilting her head sideways like a bird, she knelt down and picked up the necklace. It was very old, she could tell that much; rust was forming in the chains and hinges. But it was very beautiful; not only was the shape just right (not too large, small, or lumpy), but the metal was smooth to the touch. Inside the locket wasn't a photograph, but a sketch of a girl not much older than Lucy was. The girl was smiling and happy, with curly dark hair spilling down her shoulders.  
Lucy found herself smiling softly at the picture.

"LUCY! WHILE WE'RE YOUNG!" Franko bellowed.

"I'm coming!" Lucy stuffed the pendant in her pocket before racing out of the room. She slammed the door behind her.

Pitch was literally trembling with rage. How...how DARE that girl steal his necklace? The only reminder of his old life, and she'd taken it!

This time, Pitch couldn't care less if the sun roasted him alive. He wasn't going down without a fight.

He marched out of his shadow, ignoring his robes' hissing and his skin burning. Quick as a bullet, he leapt in Lucy's shadow. The moment he could, he'd reclaim his necklace. Then, he'd give this little fool the fright of a lifetime. He didn't care if he put her in a coma. She deserved it.

* * *

Lucy sighed as her uncle continued to talk with the carpenter. She didn't really know what they were talking about; something about coffee tables, maybe. She'd only agreed to come along because she felt she needed some time out.

Boy, had she been wrong. At least at home, she had stuff to do. She could read, write in her diary, study, or play with her puzzles. Out here, with no one to play with, she had virtually nothing to do. She couldn't even listen to the two men's conversation: it was beyond boring.

She left the store and was greeted by the cold morning air. The wind whipped at her short hair as she sat on the bench outside the store. After a few minutes, she was instantly bored again, so she began kicking her legs rhythmically and humming to herself. It helped pass the time a little, but when she checked the window to see if they were done, the two men were still talking.  
This clearly wasn't going to be short.

Lucy sighed a second time. What a wonderful Saturday.

As she shifted in the bench, she was made aware of something heavy in her pocket. For a second, she was confused. Then, she remembered the jewelry she'd found on her bedroom floor. That sparked curiosity in the girl. Where had it come from? Who did it belong to? How had it ended up in her room?

Glancing around to make sure no one was looking, Lucy fished the necklace out of her pocket. Whoever owned it certainly had money. Judging by its antique style and weight, Lucy guessed it to be worth at least two hundred bucks. She opened it, staring at the drawing again. The little girl certainly was happy-looking. Maybe it'd belonged to a parent? But if that'd been the case, why not use a photo? Why draw a picture of your kid?

"Oh?" Lucy noticed something scrawled underneath the sketch. She brought the amulet closer, trying to decipher the writing.

It was pretty untidy, but after a moment, she could figure out the words:

_Eartha Pitchiner_

Lucy felt like her insides had been scooped out. She had no clue who 'Eartha' was, but she had a pretty good idea as to who this 'Pitchiner' person was.

Pitchiner.

Pitch.

Pitch Black.

The King of Nightmares. The Boogeyman.

Lucy felt her heart hammer against her ribs as the truth sunk in. She slapped a hand over her chest, trying not to look too terrified. She didn't want to believe it, but it was staring her right in the face.

The Boogeyman had been in her room. No wonder she'd heard something last night. He'd probably snunk into her bedroom and...

Lucy stopped. Jack had told her that Pitch gave children nightmares. But she'd slept like a baby last night. But there was no doubt about this pendant; it clearly belonged to him, and judging by the position she'd found it in, Pitch must've just dropped it.

Lucy's blood ran cold.

If the Boogeyman carried something like this around, it must've surely been dear to him. She didn't want to imagine what lengths he'd go to get it back. He could very well be watching her right now.

Without another thought, Lucy darted off the bench and around the building, into its shadow. Looking around to make sure no one would hear, she straightened up and called, "I know you're there."

For a second, nothing happened.

Then, a figure stepped out of the blackness. Lucy felt her blood roar in her ears, but she stood her ground.

The figure was two feet taller than her, and lithe in appearance. He was dressed in black robes, and his glossy dark hair was styled in curves behind his head. His skin was pale gray, and he had sharp facial features. His golden eyes locked with her chestnut ones.

His expression was completely blank.

"I think you have something of mine." He stated in a silky voice.

"Yeah, I know what you mean." Lucy held up the necklace.

The Boogeyman's impassive mask cracked; the tiniest of smiles appeared on his face. "Smart girl." He held out a long-fingered hand, "Now, hand it over and I'll let you walk away."

Lucy didn't need a second invitation. She took a few steps towards him, taking him by surprise. Then, she carefully placed the necklace in his hand.

"Why all that?" The Boogeyman asked, "Why not just toss it over to me?"

"I didn't wanna risk breaking it." Lucy answered. With a small bow of respect, she scurried off.

Pitch watched her go with an arched brow. He hadn't expected her to take such caution on something that didn't even belong to her, and he definitely hadn't predicted the bow.  
Still, he wasn't complaining. He had his locket back, and that's all that really mattered to him.  
"Such an interesting girl." He mused to himself as he slipped his trinket back on, "I suppose I should..." A cool smile appeared on his face, "...return the favor."


	8. Chapter 7: Marco Snaps

Chapter 7: Marco Snaps

Pitch sat in the shadow of the Rivera household, absent-mindedly playing with his locket. For the first time in ages, he wasn't thinking about giving children nightmares or daydreaming about killing the guardians.  
He was thinking about, funnily enough, Lucy.

For one thing, he'd admired her courage during their...ah, what should he call it? _Introduction_. He could feel the girl emitting powerful waves of fear, and yet she hadn't given in to them. Nothing had been stopping her from spinning on her heel and running for dear life, yet she hadn't. That, at least to Pitch's eyes, was very impressive indeed. Most children screamed at the mere sight of him, even after he visited them multiple times. Maybe it had to do with all the nightmares she'd been having; they'd probably toughened her up.

Another thing he found himself pondering over was how she'd placed his necklace back in his hand rather than toss it to him. It might've seemed like nothing, but to Pitch, it was quite meaningful. The drawing of his daughter inside had often given him strength and encouragement in times of hardship. It was his most treasured possession, his only souvenir of his human life.

But to anyone else, it meant nothing. Maybe one could sell it and make a small fortune, but other than that, no one would value it as much as Pitch. Lucy was no different; she'd just found the bloody locket on her bedroom floor. Sure, she might've found it pretty, but it didn't have any sentimental value for her. She could've very well given it away or thrown it out, blissfully unaware that Pitch would haunt her for the rest of her life if she did.

And yet, she'd returned it to him.

Pitch cracked a smile. For the first time, it wasn't cold or malevolent. It was...genuine.

"Lucy Rivera." He snapped the locket closed with a chuckle, "Could you be the one I've been searching for?"

* * *

"Okay," The cashier grinned at the ten-year-old, "We got 'Frankenstein', 'Jekyll and Hyde', and 'Curse of the Mummy'." He winced slightly as he placed the novels in a paper bag. "Don't you want to get a happier book, Lu? We just got some very nice children's books-"

"These will be fine, thanks." Lucy cut him off, "How much do I owe you?"

"Thirty-five dollars and twelve cents, please." The cashier replied. The girl handed him the money and collected her bag, feeling happier than she had in weeks. She'd been scavenging through the bookstore for months now, searching for something interesting. Normally, there were only kiddy books and adult novels, but she'd finally found something cool.

Grinning to herself, Lucy pulled out 'Frankenstein' and began reading it as she walked back to the beauty parlor. Aunt Violet had a spa appointment, so Lucy had been allowed to roam Burgess as long as she didn't get lost.

It was hard not to, though. Lucy found herself swallowed up in Mary Shelley's words, practically seeing the creature's watery yellow eyes and translucent skin. Her chestnut eyes widened with wonder as she read of the monster's longing for companionship, its unintentional strangling of a child, and misguided murders. And to think, this had been written by a 19-year-old! All this drama, excitement, horror...Lucy would deem herself fortunate if she could _ever_ write something this good. Then again, Shelley had lived in different times, and in very different circumstances.

Still...wow.

Loud laughing cut Lucy's train of thought short.

"Hm?" Lucy frowned, looking up from her book for the first time.

The laughing was coming from an alley. It was loud, rude chortling that you usually heard from boys when they saw half-naked girls. In other words, that was precisely where Lucy _shouldn't_ have been going. She turned on her heel to leave...

"Hey! Look who it is!"

Lucy froze, wondering if she'd heard right or if her brain had played a joke on her.

..._Marco?_

A second later, Lucy was grabbed from behind. A startled yelp escaped her lips as strong arms wrapped around her, holding her still. "Hey! Let me go!" She shouted, struggling to break free._  
_

"It's my little cousin!" Marco cheered lazily, turning a deaf ear to Lucy's words. The little girl fought again, "Marco, let me go right now!"

"Or what?" Marco snorted, "You'll cute me to death?"

"Marco..." Lucy craned her neck to look her cousin in the eye...and stopped. Marco's pupils were dilated. There was a thin sheet of sweat on his face. His gaze was twitchy and nervous.

"You're high." Lucy stated, wishing it wasn't true.

"I know. Ain't it great?" Marco tickled Lucy's belly, making her flinch. Without thinking, she bit her cousin's hand as hard as she could.  
Marco yelped as his grip loosened. Lucy seized her chance, racing as quickly as her legs could carry her.

Marco winced and rubbed his hand, where crimson droplets were forming. One of his friends stepped forward, concern in his bloodshot eyes, "Dude, you okay?"  
Marco looked up just in time to see Lucy running down the road, her legs pumping.

His face twisted into a sneer, "Get her."


	9. Chapter 8: Rebirth

Chapter 8: Rebirth

Lucy knew she'd be neck-deep in trouble for leaving her aunt, but she couldn't help it. Sometimes in life, we're given two choices: we can either fly or fight. And right now, Lucy was flying. What else could she do? It was one against three, and those three were strong, tall, and probably armed. If she tried to fight them, all she'd get was enough bruises to look like a blueberry.

Lucy didn't stop running until she reached the pond. She leaned against a tree as her breath came out in ragged pants. She didn't realize she'd been crying until she felt something cold on her cheeks. Frowning, she placed a mitten on her face.  
Her tears had frozen on her cheeks.

Lucy fought back sobs as she wiped the fozen drops from her face. As much as she wanted to say that she didn't care, Lucy hated seeing her cousin like that. He might've practically been a stranger to her, but still...  
Lucy sighed and cradled her head in her hands. Why couldn't human emotion be simple? Why did it have to be so complex? Life would be so much easier if feelings were facile to figure out.

Footsteps. A lot of them, and they were coming towards her. Lucy felt as trapped as a worm in an eagle's talons. Where could she go? She had to hide, and fast! If those guys got their hands on her, they'd beat her black and green.

As the footsteps reached an alarmingly high volume, Lucy acted quickly: she ripped off her black parka and hid it behind a rock. Then, she cracked her neck and scampered up the closest tree like a squirrel. Just as she reached her eight branch, Lucy heard people panting at the base of her tree.

"She's here, M! I saw her!" One of the goons managed to say through pants.

"Yeah, well, I want results!" Marco snapped, "That little bitch bit straight to my bone!" Lucy heard a faint _th-wang_ noise and felt her blood go cold.  
"Oh, what's this?" A third voice snickered, "Guys, look! Here's the coat she was wearing."

Oh, God no. Lucy squeezed her eyes shut like that could make herself invisible.

"Oh, Luuuu-cy!" Marco hollered, "Come on out and play! Remember, _I know your secret!_"

Lucy clung to the bark like it was a life preserver. Marco had her. With her secret, he could make her do virtually anything, from staying silent regarding his addiction to acting as his punching bag. Yes, Lucy thought - she _knew_ - that she had a role in her parents' demise. But did she really deserve this?

_I gotta decide,_ Lucy thought to herself, _Should I fight, or let him walk all over me?_

Her jaw hardened. She was about to descend back on the ground and give Marco a piece of her mind...  
...when the branch she was sitting on snapped.

Lucy shrieked as she tumbled down, the air whistling in her ears. After a few seconds of falling, Lucy felt strong arms grab her.  
"Come to Marco." A familiar, slurred voice said as Lucy was set on her feet. She fought against the hands keeping her still...only to feel a slap.  
It wasn't just any slap: it was the hardest she'd ever recieved in her life. Lucy felt the world spin for a second as black dotted her vision. She stopped moving.

"There." Marco nodded, "That's for taking my old room and making me sleep in the _guest_ bedroom."

He slapped Lucy again; the girl bit her lip to keep from crying out.

"That's for using up nearly all the hot water every morning."

_Slap!_

"That's for just being you." He pulled his hand away, grinning at the crimson handprints on Lucy's cheeks. "Now, onto business." He knelt down so he was looking into his cousin's eyes, "You didn't see anything, y'hear?"

Lucy didn't say anything. She continued to stare at him with glassy eyes. Despite her fear of what her cousin might do, anger was definitely not absent right now. What gave him the right to treat her like this?

She spat at his feet. Her saliva froze the second it hit Marco's sneaker. The other two boys laughed hollowly at the foolish yet brave gesture, but Lucy's cousin stood deathly still. His chestnut eyes glared at the smear on his shoe like it had personally tried to kill him.

His next movement wasn't a blink or breath; it was a fist in Lucy's cheek. This time, the little girl cried out as she fell on the snow. She lay on the cold, white blanket with wide eyes, her mitten on her cheek. Pain exploded on the side of her face, and she could taste something warm and coppery. As her breathing quickened, Lucy gathered a handful of snow and pressed it against her wound.

"Holy shit, dude." A guy broke the silence.

"What?!" Marco snapped.

"How is she gonna explain that to your folks?" The guy reasoned, waving a hand at Lucy's swelling cheek.  
Clearly, Marco hadn't thought of that. He looked surprised for a second. Then, he puzzled over the situation. After a couple of silent minutes, he strolled over to Lucy, knelt down, and grabbed a handful of her russet hair.  
"That's okay," He murmured, "She's not gonna tell Mom on us. She fell down on the playground, that's all. Right?"  
Lucy remained silent. She was totally at their mercy; they could very well beat her, and even if they didn't, Marco could use her confession to get her to do anything.

Or so he thought.

"Right?!" Marco asked, impatiently this time. He tightened his grip on Lucy's hair, trying to get a whimper out of her. The little girl said nothing.  
Marco looked beyond furious for a second...then calmed down. He let go of Lucy's short hair and stood up, wiping his hand like he'd just touched something filthy.

"Okay, then." He nodded, "Then I guess I have to tell Mom and Dad what you said."

Lucy's heart almost stopped beating. "No." The word spilled from her lips before she could stop it.

"Why? What'd she do?" One of his goons asked.

Marco cracked a smile at Lucy. To the young girl, that grin was scarier and more fierce than any scowl.

He turned to his friends, "She killed her own parents. I don't know how, but she did."

Lucy whimpered and covered her ears with her hands. Marco might as well have stabbed her in the stomach with a time-worn dagger. The anguish would've been exactly the same.

She didn't hear what those two goons had to say about it, nor did she hear Marco bidding her goodbye. She kept her hands firmly planted over her ears until the shadows began to grow.  
Knowing she couldn't stay there forever, Lucy shakily got to her feet. She tucked her short hair behind her ear and took a deep breath. She felt a bit calmer now that she was alone; no one could hurt her, at least for now. Not Jack, not Marco, not anybody.

For a second, Lucy felt almost peaceful.

Then, the memories rammed into her like a freight train.

Her best friend had betrayed her. Her parents were dead. She'd killed them with her own foolishness and disobedience. Her cousin was a drug addict. And he was probably telling Uncle Franko and Aunt Violet what Lucy had said right now.

How would they see her once they knew? They'd want nothing to do with her. They'd most likely send her to an orphanage or foster family. Who would want to live under the same roof as her?

Lucy covered her face with her hands as her whole world fell apart.

Slow clapping shattered the silence. Lucy frowned and wiped her runny nose as a velvety voice purred, "Brava. Quite impressive, the way you refused to obey your cousin."

It took a second for Lucy to remember who this voice belonged to. When she did, for some reason, she didn't feel as terrified as the last time.  
She voiced the name, "Pitch Black."

"Lucy Rivera." The voice countered almost pleasantly. After a second, Pitch continued in an almost scolding tone, "It isn't polite to look away from someone who's speaking with you."

"But I don't know where you are." Lucy retaliated, scanning the area for the tall, lithe man.  
"Ah," Came the reply, "Touchè."

Pitch stepped out from the shadow of Lucy's tree. The girl felt her cheeks burn shamefully. So, he really _had_ seen everything.

The Boogeyman stopped when he saw the little girl's expression. For a second, he looked confused; then, his sharp face relaxed in an almost comforting smile. (Because, really, what ten-year-old child could find a tall, gray guy with sharp teeth comforting? Especially when he was compared to the guardians?)

"Don't worry, child. I don't think you acted incorrectly. In fact, I think that you behaved precisely as you should have." He stated calmly.

Lucy frowned skeptically, "Really?"

"Yes." With his hands folded behind his back, Pitch encircled the little girl, "There were three of them, and I saw that one of them had a knife. You did well to run."  
Lucy's eyes widened. A knife? Whew. It was a good thing it hadn't been in Marco's possession, or Lucy would've gotten away with a lot worse than a punch.

"But, I'm afraid your cousin kept true to his word. He is indeed going to tell your uncle and aunt." Pitch concluded. He wasn't even trying to sugarcoat it for her. He was dishing out the reality, and in a way, Lucy was grateful for it. At least she knew what was going on.  
But on the other hand...

She sighed and closed her eyes.

Pitch happened to glance at her. Her hopeless expression made something...lurch in his black heart. He didn't know why he cared...but he did. Maybe it was because she was the same age his daughter had been. Or maybe he could just understand her loneliness. Either way, he found himself saying, "I have a proposition for you, if you're interested."

Lucy looked up nervously. Pitch thought that it was a plausible reaction. Having been friends with Jack Frost, she most likely thought he'd try to trick her. Pitch resumed talking, all the while striding along the snow. Lucy noticed with a flinch that he left no footsteps behind.

"For a few years now, I have been searching for..." Pitch paused for effect, "...an apprentice. Someone to follow into my footsteps and carry on my purpose after me."

"But...you're _immortal_." Lucy hindered, "You can't die."

"Perhaps." Pitch continued, looking at her with mournful gold eyes, "But only as long as people believe. Didn't your little frosty friend tell you?"

"He's **_not_** my friend." Lucy snarled. Even Pitch had to raise his eyebrows at her bitter tone.  
She really seemed to despise Jack Frost. Unknown to her, she'd just won a dozen brownie points with him.  
"My apologies." He said, actually sounding sincere, "Did your former friend tell you?"

"Tell me what?" Lucy asked, silently going through all the stories Jack had told her.

Pitch grinned, revealing a mouth full of small, sharp teeth, "It's great being a guardian, but there's a catch. If enough children stop believing in a specific guardian, everything he or she protects fades away. And little by little, so does the guardian. Other immortals are no different, though some merely perish when their domains are destroyed." He chuckled sadly, "I can't tell you how many nature spirits have perished over the last couple of centuries due to their forests being cut down."

Lucy felt like she'd swallowed a rock. Even at her young age, she was aware of global warming and the greenhouse effect. But she'd never considered that this would affect the magical world as well. Jack Frost was the embodiment of winter; surely this meant that there were manifestations of summer, autumn, and spring as well.

Pitch continued, sounding genuinely saddened, "I am the same. My believers are lessening by the decade, and my power is gradually weakening. I could only attack the guardians last year because I'd been saving my energy for nearly two centuries."

He waved his hand, and black sand appeared in his pale gray palm. After a couple of seconds, it took on the shape of an ebony rose. Lucy held her breath, marveling at its beauty.

"My defeat left me severely weakened, and I am aware that in only a handful of years, I will die." The black rose withered and died. "And I have no children of my own, you see." Pitch said, his voice cracking a little, "Which is why I have been searching for a child. The perfect human child to carry on my work."

"You mean...spreading fear? Why is that such a good thing?" Lucy knew she was being incredibly rude, but she couldn't help it. The guardians, who up until a month ago had been her idols, existed to fight fear. Why was it so important to keep such an emotion alive?

Pitch didn't grow angry like Lucy had dreaded. In fact, he nodded at her question. Clearly, he'd been expecting it.

"Fear is what keeps this world on its feet, dear Lucy." Pitch explained, "The world isn't all peaches and cream. The world is harsh, cruel, and full of hardship. But I suppose you know that better than most children, am I correct?"

Lucy hung her head so Pitch wouldn't see her face.

The Boogeyman's expression softened slightly, "And I must show children how the world really is, so that they will be prepared to cope with it upon entering adulthood. I show children their deepest fears so that they can learn to _deal_ with them. It is better, at least for me, that a child learns how to face his or her fear within their bedroom walls before confronting the real thing. Fear is what keeps humans on their feet."

He smirked, "Tell me, little light. If it hadn't been for your fear of being beaten, do you think you would've run away just now? Or would you have remained to fight your cousin and his gang of juvenile delinquents?"

Lucy stood there, dumbstruck. She'd hightailed out of the alley out of pure instinct, out of the sheer need to get away. She'd known that if she'd tried to stay and fight, she just would've gotten the beating of a lifetime. Escaping had been the only logical response to her situation.  
If she hadn't been afraid to confront the three bullies, she might've even died since of them had a knife.

Pitch saw understanding dawn on her face. He nodded, "Yes. Those guardian fools spend their days making children happy, but what they fail to realize is that they are giving children a false impression of the world. But," He shrugged, "No one cares. For many, it is better to believe a beautiful lie than an ugly truth."

He looked at Lucy almost pleadingly, "But I cannot allow the truth to die, Lucy. That is why I must find someone to carry on my work."

"And you..." Lucy could hardly believe it, "...picked _me?_"

"Yes." Pitch's lips twisted into a dark smile.

"But...but there's millions of kids in the world! Why pick me?" Lucy sputtered, unable to believe it. She felt like she'd been put under the spotlight, and she didn't like it all that much.

"Well, for one thing, you demonstrated bravery just now." Pitch gestured to the child's swollen cheek, "You could have yielded to Marco's will, yet you didn't. That alone was impressive. You also displayed bravery during our little meeting. You were terrified, don't bother trying to deny it. But you returned my locket to me all the same. Being courageous is doing something despite being afraid, and that is a quality I value. And also..."  
He reached into his robe collar and pulled something out.

Lucy raised her eyebrows, "Your neckace?"

"Indeed." Pitch tucked it back under his collar, "I doubt you can truly understand, but this is my most precious possession. But you still comprehended that it had sentimental value. The fact that you returned it to me when you could have thrown it away or sold it proves that you can understand the pain of others. That has convinced me that you are worthy."

He held his hand out, "If you choose to come with me, you will continue to age for a while. But once I see that you are ready to become the next Boogeyman - pardon me, Boogey-woman - you will become immortal." His expression softened, "Come with me, Lucy. I will give you a purpose in this world."

Lucy stared at him, searching his golden eyes. Was he really being honest, or did he intend to harm her? He seemed truthful, but how could she know?

Then again, he had taken away her nightmare. She was convinced of it now; Pitch had been the one to grant her a serene sleep the other night.

What else could she do? Pitch had confirmed her worst intimidations. Marco had squealed on her. Even if she chose to return home, Uncle Franko and Aunt Violet would kick her out a moment later. Better leave and not come back.

More than anything, Lucy just wanted a home again.

She accepted Pitch's hand.

The Boogeyman's smile widened, "Excellent."

The shadows swallowed them whole, taking them out of this world.


	10. Chapter 9: Disappearance

Chapter 9: Disappearance

Jack Frost sat in one of the park trees, kicking his skinny legs rhythmically. Down below, the children of Burgess were squealing with laughter as snowballs flew and snow angels were created. Yes, even when he felt anything but festive, the winter spirit had given the kids another one of his famous snow days. Just as well, too; the fourth-graders had been saved from a science exam. Despite the mirth in the air, though, Jack had no interest in joining the fun.  
Jamie glanced up at his friend and gestured for him to come down, but Jack offered a weak smile and shook his head.

The little boy smiled sadly and left the chaos for a moment, walking towards his friend. He leaned against the tree bark, staring at his friend. He'd never seen Jack this down in the dumps. Even when kids stopped believing in him and grew up, sure, the Guardian of Fun would be upset for a little while; but he'd always recover by the end of the second or third day.  
This, however, proved to be a different case. Jack continued to do his job, but his...spunk was gone. He didn't smile as often, or as brightly. Jamie found Jack always searching the crowds of kids for their absent friend, or holding his copy of the picture they'd taken together.

Jamie and Lucy had their own copies of it, since it'd been an important day. That picture had been taken the day Jack had returned for winter. They'd celebrated by spending the entire day - from late morning to early evening - outside, playing and laughing.

Jack's eyes were gleaming as he held the photo in his hands.

"She'll get over it, you know." Jamie began, trying to sound reassuring. Jack scoffed as he tucked the picture back in his hoodie pocket, "Yeah, sure."

"Really! You know Lucy; once she's gotten the time to calm down, she'll be back here like nothing'd ever happened!" Jamie continued, sounding more convinced with every word.

Jack stared at his little friend, "JB, it's been over three weeks. I'm pretty sure she's not coming back."

"Well, that's because she lives so far away now." Jamie pointed to the road leading out of town, "She can't come over much, but she can't still be mad."

"She locked her windows shut." Jack informed his friend sadly, "And I've been trying to break in at least half a dozen times. She's not interested."

The light left Jamie's chocolate-brown eyes. Jack immediately wished he hadn't said anything; he felt like he'd just extinguished some great force. Jack hopped down from the tree branch, landing on his feet with cougar-like grace. Holding his staff with one hand, Jack placed the other on Jamie's shoulder.

"Look, I'm sorry, kid." Jack said sincerly, "But sometimes...friends just don't make up. I don't like it, but that's the way it is." He patted Jamie's shoulder before letting it go, "Go on and have fun, though. I'll get over it, don't worry."

"But-"

"Go _on_." Jack gave his friend a playful shove towards the snowball war still going on. "I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"

Jamie didn't like Jack leaving, especially since he still had 'depressed' written all over his bloodless face. But he knew how it felt to need some alone time; whenever he was upset, he stayed by himself so that he wouldn't dampen other people's moods. Nodding, Jamie gave the immortal a gap-toothed smile before running off to join the other kids.

Jack's own weak, fake smile vanished the moment Jamie turned his back. The winter spirit reached in his pocket and plucked out the photo a second time. He stared at it, reveling in the memory.

It showed the three of them standing in this park, all standing before the cameraman (Cupcake, after Lucy had promised to buy her a new toy unicorn). Jack was bent over so he was the same height as the two kids, slinging his arms over their shoulders. Jamie was jokingly pulling at Lucy's short hair while the little girl, holding onto Jack's arm with one hand, was trying to push Jamie away. All three of them had ridiculously huge smiles on their faces.

A few droplets splattered on the photograph, turning into ice the second they landed.

Jack angrily wiped his eyes and crammed the picture back in his hoody pocket. Forget what he'd just said! Lucy was going to hear him out, whether she liked it or not!

"Wind!" He shouted, "Take me to Lucy's house!"

The wind immediately picked up, whistling in the boy's ears. The leaves rustled as a strong current coursed through the town like a river of air. Jack smirked and leaped into the air. The wind picked him up like a leaf. Jack cheered and whooped as he flew higher and higher into the sky, as weightless as the snowflakes around him.

He landed on the roof of Lucy's new home with a solid _thunk_. Using his shepard's stick, he descended to Lucy's window. Scowling slightly at the nails hammered into the window inside, he smashed his fist through the glass. Cold air raced into the room like a pack of hungry dogs. Jack climbed into the room, wringing his bleeding fist.

"Lu?" He called, wondering if she'd hidden. When he got no reply, he sighed and checked under the bed. Nothing.  
"Lucy, come on! It's me." Jack shouted, looking for the short girl in the closet and under the writing desk. Even when he didn't find her, Jack kept searching the room, scanning every possible hiding place.

After ten minutes of fruitless examining, Jack ran a hand through his silvery-white hair and exited the bedroom.

As he stepped into the hall, he heard frantic footsteps coming from downstairs. Frowning, Jack slid down the banister and into the living room. He saw three people that could only be Lucy's relatives; they had similar facial features to her, and they all had her olive skin. A dark-haired boy of around 18 was lying on the couch, flicking through the TV channels. He didn't really seem interested in the present time and place, unlike his parents.

His father, a chubby guy whose hair was thinning, looked at his wife anxiously as she dialled a number. After a few seconds of waiting, the woman spoke, "Yes, hello? Police? We have a problem: my neice is missing!"

Jack froze. His heart almost stopped beating, and he forgot to breathe.

"Yes, we've tried calling her cellphone twelve times! She won't answer, and I know she would answer unless something was wrong!" A pause, then the woman went from anxious to angry. Jack felt a tremor up his spine as the woman hissed, "Look, buster; I know my neice. She would **_never_** make us worry like this. _**Never**_."

Jack had to admit, he liked this woman. She had guts.

The woman listened for a moment to what the police had to say. Then, she began describing the girl: "Her name's Lucy Rivera. She just turned ten years old. She's a little on the short side: four-foot-eleven. She's thin; I think she only weighs 78 pounds or so. She has olive skin, reddish-brown skin, and brown eyes. No marks, no scars, nothing of the sort." A pause. Then, the woman continued, "Yes, I can provide you with a picture. Yes, I'll bring it this evening if she hasn't returned."

Another pause, "Okay. Be sure to call if you find her, okay?" After a nod, the woman bid the police goodbye. The second she hung up, the woman hid her face in her hands and began to cry.  
"Oh, baby." The man wrapped an arm around his wife, his face creased with concern and sorrow. "Don't worry, Burgess is a small town. We'll find her."  
"But what could've happened?" The woman wailed, "She said she was just going to the book store!"

"I-I don't know, honey." The man stroked the woman's curly dark hair, "Just breathe, okay? We'll find her, I promise."

The young man, from what Jack could see, couldn't care less. He flicked a dark lock from his eyes, "So, what's for dinner tonight?"

Both his parents stared at him in shock. Growling angrily, Jack zapped him with his staff. The hand holding the remote was incased in ice. The Guardian of Fun watched with intense amusement as the boy screamed bloody murder and tried to shake the ice off.  
Not interested in seeing the aftermath, Jack pulled up his hood, ran back up the stairs, and made it to Lucy's room. He slammed the door behind him, muffling the humans' voices down below.

Jack didn't realize he'd been crying until he heard his ragged pants. Feeling a surge of fury, he threw his staff across the room, where it smashed into a mirror. The shards flew in every direction, reflecting Jack's grieved face. The winter spirit fell to his knees and curled up in a ball. Horrible, broken cries escaped him with every breath. He felt like someone had stabbed him in the chest and carved his heart out.

This was all his fault. If only he hadn't been so careless with the roads; Lucy's parents would still be alive. And worse still, Lucy wouldn't be blaming herself for the tragedy. He understood that she blamed him as well, but the fact that she deemed herself partly responsible was like a thorn in his side. This had been his mistake. His! Why should Lucy blame herself? She wasn't even remotely responsible.

And now she was gone. And it was all his fault. He'd destroyed three lives without the smallest fraction of intention.

Wiping his eyes to clear his vision, Jack pulled out the photo for the third time. He stared at it, remembering the laughs they'd shared and the fun times they'd had.

He couldn't just abandon her.

"I swear to you, Lucy." Jack spoke to the picture as though it were his friend, "I'll find you. I won't stop until I do."


	11. Chapter 10: First Day

Chapter 10: First Day

_(Back in 2012)_

The young woman stopped writing for a minute, flexing her fingers. She'd been writing for hours without a break. Her hand felt like someone had glued the bones together.  
She sighed, "Got it." She rose to her feet, flipping her long hair from her eyes. The young woman walked to the oil lamp she'd brought with her and was quick to light it. Its warm glow filled the room, casting shadows in the corners. The young woman smiled softly at the inky shapes. Even though she knew she'd forget very soon, the young woman recalled entering the Realm for the first time.  
As Pitch's apprentice.

Had it really only been eight years ago? It felt like much, much more than that.

The young woman sighed and flexed her hand again. It didn't hurt and responded to her command, so she decided to get back to work. Casting one fleeting glance outside to admire the snowstorm, she sat back down on the floor. She picked up her pen and began to write again. She couldn't afford to waste any time.

_And then, when the shadows parted..._

* * *

"Welcome to my humble abode." Pitch Black waved a hand at the enviroment, his voice dry.  
As the inky shadows cleared, Lucy could understand why.

The place she now stood in looked more like a cave than an actual home. While it was incredibly spacious and vast, the walls and floors were made of weathered rock. The air was cool and humid, and thousands of large, iron bird cages hung from the cave ceiling. Wan rays of light streamed down from the ceiling, and Lucy could make out some bridges formed from old stone.

Not exactly the most comfortable place in the world, eh?

Pitch folded his hands behind his back and began to walk down the steps. Lucy followed, trying to make as little noise as possible. She did _not_ want to get lost in a place like this. Lucy found herself examining her surroundings as she traveled behind her new mentor. She couldn't help it; the entire place might've seemed creepy, but to her...it was beautiful in a way. It kind of reminded her of a few caves she'd explored back when she was six, when her family had visited her grandparents in Sardegna. It felt...serene, and peaceful.

"So," Pitch asked after they'd walked in silence for a while, "Are you regretting your decision already?"  
Lucy frowned, "Why would I?"  
Pitch stopped walking, his eyes widening. It took him a second to recompose himself, "Well, I merely wanted to...how do you humans say?" He thought for a second, trying to find the correct term, "_Check_. An apprentice must not be reluctant to live with her mentor. I was merely making sure that this wasn't the case. The Realm is repellent for most beings, especially for children." He chuckled without humor, "I suppose it is to be expected. After all, I'm not exactly children's favorite figure."

Lucy felt a small wave of empathy for the Boogeyman. She'd never put any thought into it, especially since she'd always seen the story from the guardians' point of view. But how could it have felt, to reside in this kind of place without friends? Pitch must've felt terribly lonely, especially since he knew how few children believed in him. Had he really never had a companion, an ally, _something?_

A chorus of loud neighing brought her out of her thoughts. She gasped and clung to Pitch's cloak without thinking.  
Just for a second, the Nightmare King remembered the last time a child had gone to him for protection: his daughter, all the times she'd been frightened. She'd run up to him and hang onto his side much like Lucy was doing right now. An old, pleasant sensation bloomed in his chest. A warm smile appeared on his face.  
He patted her head, "Fear not, little light. Those noises you hear are merely my Night Mares."

Lucy frowned and looked up, "Nightmares?"

"Yes." Pitch nodded, "Watch." He looked away from her and whistled sharply. Lucy winced slightly at the noise. It sounded like a dog whistle, only much louder and harder on the ears.

Before two seconds had passed, three swirling black shapes appeared from the shadows, coming straight towards them. Before Lucy's eyes, the things took on the elegant forms of stallions. They appeared to be made of black ash, and their eyes were as bright as embers. Their onyx mane flew behind them like black smoke. They were breathtakingly beautiful, but Lucy still found herself hiding behind Pitch.

As the Night Mares reached the pair, Pitch reached out and steadied them. Lucy watched in amazement as Pitch whispered soothing words to the horses and stroked their sleek necks lovingly.  
"Exquisite, aren't they?" Pitch asked, caressing one of the horses' snouts, "Don't be nervous; it only riles them up more. They smell fear, you know."  
As if on cue, one of the horses Pitch wasn't petting reared up and stepped towards Lucy. The small girl yelped and stumbled backwards, her face blanching. The Nightmare King frowned slightly and held the other one back.

"Are you frightened of horses?" He asked curiously.

"W-well..." Lucy tried to think up a lie before realizing it was pointless. He could sense her fear, just like his Night Mares. She hung her head in shame, "Yes."

Pitch's eyes widened slightly, but he regained his composure. "And why, might I ask?"

Lucy shifted her weight from one foot to another, "I'd rather not talk about it, if you don't mind."

Pitch could smell his apprentice's fear. She was practically reeking of it. But deciding not to rub salt into the wounds, he nodded, "Very well." He turned to the horses and said, "Go on, now." He slapped them on the backs for emphasis. The Night Mares appeared reluctant, but they obeyed their master all the same. Relief washed over Lucy like a tidal wave as the two majestic beasts flew off into the Realm, transforming back into shadows along the way.

"They're cool, though." Lucy said, not wanting to discourage Pitch, "Better than real horses, anyway." She faced the Nightmare King curiously, "Can you make any other creatures like that?"

Pitch snickered as he met her gaze. The two resumed their walk down the bridge. "Yes, though I do prefer horses. I can create other beasts, though the larger they are, the more energy it takes on my part."  
Lucy nodded, "Will I be able to use black sand, to?"  
Pitch smiled to himself, looking away so his student wouldn't see it. She was absorbing knowledge already. He'd chosen well.  
"Yes. In a couple of years, perhaps. You're much too young to utilize black sand right now."

"Okay." Lucy answered, a tad disappointed, "So what am I gonna do?"

Pitch smiled, "For the time being, you will come with me on my travels. At your age, humans lap up information like a sponge. Watching me will be of use to you later on."  
"Wow." Lucy cracked a smile for the first time in weeks, "Looks like you got it all planned out."

Pitch laughed out loud this time. His chortles echoed through the realm, bouncing off the cave walls like boomerangs. Lucy nearly jumped out of her skin at the sudden sound.

"Lucy," The Boogeyman said once he finished, "You forget that I didn't just wake up in the morning and decide to search for a student. I have been searching for an apprentice for quite some time."  
"Which is how long, exactly?" Lucy inquired, ready to hear a ridiculously long time.  
"Around one hundred years, more or less." Pitch answered as they entered a dim corridor.

He snapped his fingers, and a black door appeared. Lucy emitted a small yelp, taking a step back. Pitch grinned mischieviously. Humans couldn't make doors and passageways appear and disappear like he could. Watching their reactions was incredibly funny to him.  
"This," He waved at the door, "will be your bedroom. It will depend entirely on you. Just by wanting it, you can change your room's size, shape, and color."

"Wow. It's a good thing this isn't a hotel, or it would cost me an eye." Lucy commented, making Pitch smirk.  
"You should rest now. Tonight is one of my trips, and it shall serve as your first lesson."

Lucy's eyes suddenly widened. She groaned and slapped a hand over her face, "Should I wear a black cloak like you? 'Cuz that's gonna be a problem."  
"Why?"  
"All my clothes are still at home." Lucy responded, massaging her temples, "Sorry. I wasn't even thinking about that until now."

"Oh." Pitch had to admit, he'd forgotten all about that as well. He'd lived here for so long, he hadn't even thought that his new apprentice (well, his only apprentice) would need something the Realm didn't have.  
Still, it wasn't a big problem.

He shrugged, placing a pale gray hand on Lucy's shoulder, "You don't need them anymore, little light. Those clothes belong to another life." He lightly tapped the girl's cheek, where the swelling had gone down a bit, "As does this injury. You've left that life behind."

He stared at the girl's outfit a moment longer, deciding she still needed new clothes. He almost felt like a parent again, having to worry about a child's basic needs. But this was still different; this was about principle, not just the girl's necessity. No apprentice of his would wear the same clothes every day. He would not have it.

He waved his hand, and Lucy's clothes morphed. The little girl watched with a dropped jaw as her black-and-white striped shirt and black skirt transformed into a body-hugging bodysuit the color of the night sky. It covered her from neck to foot; the only things left uncovered were her ankles, toes, and fingers. Lucy blinked several times before touching the fabric, making sure it wasn't merely an illusion.

Nope; it was indeed a thicker, warmer material than her previous clothes had been.

Lucy looked up at Pitch and smiled, "Thank you. I really like it. But..." She hesitated, as if unsure whether to continue speaking.  
Pitch smirked. This ought to be good.  
"Go on." He jerked his chin at her, "What's on your mind?"  
"Well," Lucy played with one of her russet locks, "I like it, but it's just...well, I'd like to add a few touches to it, y'know?"

"Like what?" Pitch arched a brow. If she wanted to add glitter, unicorns, or anything like that, he'd seclude himself for a month.

"Do you have a white marker or something?" She asked, holding her small hand out. Pitch blinked, "Do I look like an art store?"

Lucy blushed and retracted her hand, "Right, never mind." She walked towards her door, "See you tonight!"  
Still blushing with embarrassment, Lucy closed the door, leaving Pitch alone in the dark hallway.

The Nightmare King sighed and shook his head. He'd pretty much let this one concept slip from his mind. Women. Even young ones were obsessed with fashion.

Oh, well. She was coming with him tonight. Maybe he'd be able to hammer some skills in that head of hers.


	12. Chapter 11: Nightmare Expedition

Chapter 11: Nightmare Expedition

"_Lucy_." Pitch knocked on the little girl's door thrice, "Come! We have to be gone by dusk."  
"O-okay! I'm ready!" The door clicked open, and Pitch's eyebrows shot up.

The little girl hadn't given up in her mission to add a few 'touches' to the bodysuit he'd given her. Now, the black suit was decorated with white; the arms and legs had white striped on them, while the shoulders and hips had white circles. When Lucy turned around, Pitch saw another white circle on her shoulders. She grinned sheepishly at him, "How does it look?"

"Very...nice." Pitch answered, deciding that it was quite the creative idea. "And how, dare I ask, did you find the supplies needed to make such decorations?"  
Lucy tucked some russet hair behind her ear, "Well, there was a Fearling in my room..."  
Pitch resisted the urge to slap himself in the forehead. He'd completely forgotten to check the room for his minions!  
"...And tried to attack me at first. But then it calmed down." Lucy continued.

Pitch scoffed, "I hate to discourage you, little light; but you have received absolutely no training yet. How could you possibly avoid being attacked by a Fearling? They are quite tricky."  
Lucy shrugged, "I just told it that I wasn't afraid, and that I was your apprentice. It calmed down."  
Pitch internally grinned. He didn't know why, but it felt nice that she was acknowledging her new place as his student.  
"So," Lucy continued, "I asked it if it could go to the human world to get me some colors and..." She moved aside so that Pitch could see the interior of the room, "...here they are."

Pitch's jaw dropped. Just as he said it would, the room had bended according to the little girl's will. In many ways, it resembled her bedroom back in Burgess. The room was small, with violet walls decorated with black stars. A small bed had been shoved in the corner, and there was a large bookshelf on the opposite wall. The floor was covered in paints, crayons, markers, and pastels. Pitch noticed that at least three tubes of white paint had been emptied.

In center of it all, a Fearling was sniffing the art supplies like they were foreign to it. Fearlings did not have a definite shape; they usually took on the form of a fear the person present had. It wasn't their greatest fear; merely the fear the person has had the longest.  
Much to Pitch's surprise, the Fearling had taken on the shape of a small horse, much like his Night Mares.

So, Lucy had feared horses for quite some time. Pitch would have to ask her about it someday. Maybe he'd find out, if he ever earned her trust.

He shook his head to clear it. Clearing his throat professionally, he placed his hands behind his back and jerked his head towards the exit, "Well, that's enough art for one evening, Lucy. Come along."  
"Oh, yes, sir." Lucy gave her mentor a little, respectful bow before following him out of the room, closing the door behind her. The two walked down the inky corridor, silence falling over them. Lucy was a bit panicky to see that shadows had a life of their own here. They rippled and moved like ripples in water, occasionally taking on shapes before returning to black mist. Lucy stayed close to Pitch, not wanting to end up against one of these..._things_.

The Boogeyman kept his back to her, which was a good thing in his book: at least this way, she couldn't see him grinning. He was getting more gratified by his apprentice by the hour. The mere fact that she hadn't run away at the first sight of the Realm was encouraging to him; at least this showed she had guts and intended to keep her word. Most people took one look at his home and ran away screaming. He was also taken aback that she'd faced a _Fearling_ on her first day here. He'd seen his minions rip people to pieces because those unfortunate humans had been unable to face their fears.  
Yes, the Boogeyman was quite pleased with his apprentice.

Before too long, they reached the bottom of the Realm. It acted as the 'ranch' for his Night Mares. He only had six at the moment (after all, he'd been alone up until now), but all it would take is a flick of his wrist to make more. Lucy's olive face turned eggshell-white at the sight of them, which made Pitch frown. Was this absurd phobia going to become a nuisance? He hoped not. He couldn't have a cowardly apprentice.  
"Oh, come now." He scolded as he mounted the closest one, "As the one who will one day carry on my life's work, you must learn to set your own fears aside."

Lucy whimpered, but when she saw her mentor's cold gaze, she swallowed hard and asked, "Which one should I ride?"  
Pitch nodded approvingly, "Since this is your first time, you shall ride with me. But don't get used to this luxury: I _am_ going to teach you how to ride one by yourself."  
"Oh, whoop dee doo." Lucy replied with a sigh, her voice dripping with sarcasm.  
She accepted Pitch's outstretched hand and was climbing on the black horse a second later. The little girl had to admit, it wasn't _so_ terrible. The Night Mare felt as warm and solid as any real stallion, yet Lucy could still feel the sandy substance it was made of.  
"Hold onto me." Pitch instructed her, "We wouldn't want you to continue your apprenticeship as an omelet, now would we?"  
Lucy gulped and obliged, hugging the man so tightly she almost blocked his breathing. Pitch coughed and stared at her in shock. Good Lord, she was stronger than she looked!

The Nightmare King was determined not to let his surprise show. As a mentor, he had to show authority, not astonishment or any other sort of emotion. Otherwise, Lucy would think she could pull the tiger's whiskers whenever she wished.

Straightening in posture, he kicked the horse in the sides. With a sharp, 'Yaah!', he urged the Night Mare forward. Still holding onto Pitch as though letting go meant death, she stared in amazement as the mare broke into a gallop. It was racing at an impossible speed, then leapt into the air. Lucy let out a small shriek as she felt the horse's hooves leave the ground.  
Pitch cackled like a madman as the Night Mare glided through the Realm. The cold, damp air whipped through their hair and whistled in their ears. Lucy looked down, and her eyes widened to anime proportions.  
They were flying five hundred meters into the air. It made her tremble slightly, after a few seconds, the fear began to fall away.

"Hold on!" Pitch called as they approached the exit.

"Then what am I doing now?!" Lucy retorted. The Nightmare King smirked in reply and tugged at the reins. The Night Mare neighed and went faster. Lucy gasped as they zoomed through the air and into the shadows.

For a few seconds, the two (three, if you included the horse) of them flew into the abyss. It was actually quite frightening for Lucy; even though it was so dark closing and opening her eyes made no difference, she could still _hear_ things around them. She heard cars honking their horns, people shouting, the occasional rumble of thunder, and the wind blowing around them.

Finally, the dark's tentacles released them into the sky, where the sun was nearly gone. Lucy found herself gawking at the sheer beauty of it. The sky was painted various shades of gold, ranging from light yellow to a dark gold color. The sun, still burning brightly, was slowly dipping into the black horizon. The entire sky felt so colossus, making Lucy feel like a small speck in the infinite universe.  
"Wow," She tugged at Pitch's black cloak with one hand, using the other to point, "Pitch! Pitch! Look at that!"  
"I have seen _thousands_ of sunsets, Lucy." Pitch answered a little tiredly, "I know what they look like."  
"I do, too!" Lucy retorted, "But it's so _beautiful_. Just look at it for a second!"

Pitch sighed, "If I do, will that make you quiet?"

"You won't hear another peep out of me for the rest of the night." For emphasis, Lucy zipped her lip and threw away the key.  
"Fine." Pitch glanced at the sunset...and felt something stir within him. Lucy was right. It really _was_ beautiful. The sky was a gorgeous mix of gold, and the sun slowly went from yellow to orange to crimson as it disappeared from sight.  
The scene actually got the Boogeyman thinking. When was the last time he'd actually lifted his gaze to look at the sunset? It wouldn't harm him as the sunrise could, and it was sort of beautiful as a concept: the end of a day and the beginning of the long, inky night. He found himself sort of charmed by the view.

Pitch shook his head to clear it. This kid was stuffing all sorts of ideas in his head. He couldn't let them get to him. _He_ was supposed to teach _her_, not vice versa. And he was going to educate her on something that actually **_mattered_**, not silly sunsets.  
"Well?" Lucy asked curiously, "Do you like it?"  
"Ah!" Pitch turned around this time and held a finger up, "We had a deal. _Silence_."

Lucy harrumphed, then shut her mouth. He had a point: a deal was a deal.

Pitch urged the Night Mare to go faster, the corner of his mouth slightly up. At least he'd picked up a relatively obedient child. He couldn't stand children who didn't do what they were told.

* * *

The two rode through the darkening sky for a little while afterwards. Lucy stayed true to her word and didn't so much as sigh for the rest of the trip. Once they reached the city of New York, though, she found she couldn't remain silent.

"What're we doing here?" She asked as she hopped off the Night Mare. Pitch, much to the little girl's relief, wasn't annoyed or angered by her question. He stroked his horse as he explained, "It is impossible for us to travel throughout the globe spreading nightmares; at least, all in one night. So I go about spreading nightmares in North America, our home country. My Fearlings are the ones who fly abroad and give people fear." He chuckled humorlessly, "They actually travel more than I do. I hardly ever see them anymore."  
"But why can't we go all over the world?" Lucy asked as Pitch flexed his fingers.

He arched a brow at her, "I may be immortal, child, but even _I_ need rest. When would I get it if I covered every inch of land, giving each individual human fear, anxiety, insecurity, and so on?"  
Lucy nodded. That _did_ sound tiring. It made sense that Pitch covered ground himself and had Fearlings spread nightmares where he couldn't. It got the job done a lot sooner.  
Suddenly, she brightened. "What if I helped? Spread nightmares, I mean? That way, you wouldn't have to work so hard."

The corner of Pitch's mouth curved up slightly. "I appreciate your concern, but I must continue my work until my very last breath. But if you wish, you may begin spreading nightmares in a couple of years."

Lucy grinned like a jack-o-lantern.

Pitch got back to business. He straightened, fulling his full six-foot-ten frame, "Now, we will work quickly and efficiently if we want to cover all of North America before morning. All I ask is that you stay close to me and take note of what I do, alright?"

Lucy nodded, her eyes sparkling with fascination.

"Good." With a wave of Pitch's hand, the two of them were in a kid's room. The only thing illuminating the bedroom was the gold sand floating above the child's head. It looked like the sleeping boy playing soccer.  
Pitch smirked and tapped the sand with his figure. Instantly, the sand turned black while the boy winced and shuddered in his sleep. The dream took on a whole new turn: now, the boy was playing a soccer game, but every time he tried to score, he missed.

"Yes." Pitch nodded at Lucy's surprised expression, "This is the boy's greatest fear: failing at his passion, soccer. Now, through this nightmare, he will be encouraged to work harder to avoid making this fear a reality." He turned back to the window, "Lucy, come."  
Lucy followed her mentor.

For the rest of the night, Pitch gave thousands of American citizens of all ages nightmares, showing them their greatest uncertainties with his obsidian sand. Lucy was interested to see that her mentor didn't give everyone nightmares; only the average 80 percent. It also captivated her what the black sand formed. It didn't just form ugly, acid-spewing monsters; each nightmare was directly linked to the person. A pudgy teenage girl feared becoming obese. A guy that smelled of smoke feared dying of lung cancer. A woman surrounded by empty liquor bottles feared aging, which was why she drank to numb the anxiety.

She was upset to see, though, how some kids her age reacted to these nightmares. Many really did fear monsters, and they emitted terrified whimpers and cries where their content sighing had once been.

Pitch continued his work without hesitation or regret, keeping a blank expression throughout the entire operation.


	13. Chapter 12: Kind Words

Chapter 12: Kind Words

Finally, dawn began to appear. The black sky was tinged with dark purple as the two took a break in Texas. At Lucy's insistence, they rested at the Big Bend National Park. Pitch found it quite clever; the place consisted of towering, beige rocks that would block out the sun in case they were late in returning home.

He stroked his Night Mare as Lucy stared at the rock formations in awe. The Nightmare King couldn't help smirk at her curiousity. He'd really avoided contact for far too long. She'd remained silent throughout the night, clearly not wanting to provoke and/or distract him, and he was relieved of that. But he could feel her absorbing everything he'd done, and he knew she'd been just as focused as he.

Lucy yawned, interrupting Pitch's train of thought.

"Tired, are we?" He asked, trying not to sound like he cared too much.

"Just a bit." Lucy replied, though her eyes were barely open. "M'not used to this yet."

"Indeed." Pitch answered, dusting off his robes, "But you did quite well." He smirked, "At least I didn't lose sight of you. Now _that_ would've been a problem."

"I'll say." Lucy chuckled, sitting on the rocky ground with her legs crossed. Pitch stared at the rocks, taking in their intricate designs. "Where did you get the idea to come here?"

Lucy smiled sadly, "I saw this place in a catalogue a few months ago. I begged my parents to bring me, but they said it was too expensive." She shrugged, "Just seemed like a good place."  
Pitch nodded to show he understood. As he leaned against the rock wall, he felt that familiar metallic shape press against his chest. Smiling slightly, he pulled out the gold locket and clicked it open. He stared at the sketch with affection, stroking the girl's face with a long gray finger.  
"Was that..."

Pitch looked up, quickly dropping his hand.

"...Was that your daughter?" Lucy asked curiously.

Pitch didn't say anything for a long moment. He'd only just met this girl. He couldn't just blab the entire story to her, especially when he knew so little about her.  
Still, he had to tell her _something_. Apprentices should trust their mentors, and vice versa. Why should they start off on the wrong foot?  
"Yes." He answered, "I suppose now, you know her as 'Mother Earth'."

Lucy's jaw dropped. "Mother Earth's...your _daughter?_"

"I believe that's what I just said."

"Wow." Lucy smiled widely, "That is so cool! Will we ever meet her?"

"Er...no." Pitch clicked the locket shut and tucked it back under his robes, "She...no longer remembers me."  
"What?" Lucy's eyes widened, "Why not? Did she fall and hit her head or something?"

"No." Pitch chose his words carefully, not wanting to get too much into this, "Once a human becomes an immortal, he or she no longer remembers their mortal life. When my child became Mother Nature, she was no exception. She does not remember who she was before or where she is from." Pitch looked at his feet, "And that includes her family members."

"Oh." Lucy weakly said. After a second of silence, she laughed weakly, "Well, that's different than what the guardians said."

Pitch looked up sharply at the mention of his enemies. "What _about_ them?" All warmth left his voice. His voice sounded more like a snake's than his own. Lucy was a bit frightened, but she answered anyway, "They said you were _no one_ before. Without a family or anything. And they said you would stab anyone in the back."

"Wha-" Pitch was at a loss for words. His shocked expression quickly melted into a furious one. He summoned a huge orb of glowing black sand and threw it aimlessly. It smashed into the wall, creating thousands of deep cracks. Lucy gulped and backed away. Even the Night Mare reared uncomfortably.

Pitch continued to aimlessly throw black sand, creating alarmingly large fissures. When Lucy looked at her mentor, though, she saw that his gold eyes were gleaming. She cursed herself for having spilled the beans. She hadn't expected him to jump for joy, but she hadn't been anticipating a reaction like this. He probably felt even worse than before. Another screw-up! Curse her and her tongue!

It took him several minutes to calm down. He took deep breaths and leaned against the wall for support. He quickly wiped his eyes before looking at Lucy almost pleadingly, "Of _course_ I wouldn't." He swallowed, "I may not be the most pleasant person to be around, but I would never..." His voice cracked slightly, "I would _never_ intentionally hurt the people I care about."

Lucy felt a rush of sympathy for the Nightmare King. She couldn't really understand what he was going through, but she could take a guess. She knew what it was like to lose someone close to you, but to have them _forget_ you? How was that worse than them dying? You knew they lived, but you also knew that you didn't exist to them? That they went about their lives, totally ignorant of the times you'd spent together? How awful must that be?  
And on top of that, from what Lucy speculated, Pitch was something of the black sheep. Nobody particularly liked him, and it was because of his shrinking number of believers that he was slowly dying. Hell, that was why he'd picked her up and brought her home to begin with! He needed to know that someone would carry on his work.  
But when Lucy thought on how Pitch was actually doing humans a favor, that he was showing them their fears so that they could grow stronger...and no one even realized it...

The little girl walked towards her mentor and patted his side, since that was as high as she could reach.  
For a second, Pitch looked confused. Then, he granted her a tiny smile. He nodded in gratitude, "Thank you."

The comforting silence was suddenly cut off by loud whooping. Lucy jumped at the sound, but Pitch merely sighed, "Wonderful."  
"Who's that?" Lucy asked.  
"Desert, the spirit who owns these parts." Pitch replied, "I'd entirely forgotten about him." He straightened and turned to his Night Mare, clicking his tongue, "Onyx, we're leaving."  
The Night Mare neighed in befuddlement.  
"Onyx, _now_."

"Hey, look!" A young voice crowed, "It's the Booger Man!"

Pitch rubbed his temples, "Too late." He gripped Lucy by the arm and shoved her in the shadow. The darkness wrapped around her like an inky blanket, shrouding her from sight.  
"Stay here." Pitch order, piercing her with his gaze, "I've handled that blithering idiot before. Just remain here, and I will send him off." He glanced at the brightening sky worriedly, "It'll be light soon."

In that moment, a cackling young boy floated down. Lucy's eyebrows nearly touched her scalp. This kid was around the same physical age as Jack, but other than that, they were polar opposites. Instead of Jack's paper-white skin, this guy had a tan women would kill for; rather than Jack's silvery-white hair, this teen had tawny hair held back in a ponytail. But the biggest difference, Lucy thought, were their eyes. While Jack's eyes were blue, kind, and open, this one had topaz eyes that revealed little and saw even less.  
The spirit smirked at Pitch, "Well, well. If it isn't the legend of dusty beds and shadows."

"Well-mannered as always, Desert." Pitch countered, looking completely calm and uninterested. He examined his fingernails as he asked, "What brings you here?"

"I could ask you the same fucking thing." Desert replied, grinning coldly, "Are you going senile, Booger? This is _my_ domain."

"Right, sorry about that." Pitch answered with a shrug, tenting his fingers, "I had a particularly tiring excursion last night and was resting here for a mome-"

"Does it look like I care?" Desert asked, spreading his arms out, "I didn't ask for your schedule, old man. I'm asking you to get the hell out."

Pitch's eyes narrowed dangerously. Just like that, Lucy knew that this Desert guy was in trouble.  
"Watch your tongue, boy." The Nightmare King warned in a soft voice, "The Man in the Moon might've given you immortality 50 years ago, but I was one of the _first_ legends. You will show me some respect."

"Respect this!" Desert stomped his foot. A piece of rock the size of a truck broke loose and came tumbling down.  
Towards Pitch.

The Nightmare King stifled a yawn and made a motion as if to wave a fly from his face. Sooty sand climbed out of his robes and attacked the rock like a family of hungry vipers. The rock crumbled into dust a moment later, leaving Pitch completely unharmed.  
Lucy's terrified expression melted into an ecstatic smile. "Holy God..." She whispered, "He's _amazing_."  
Pitch looked at Desert with a bored expression, "Is that the best you can do? My weakest Fearlings could put up more of a fight than that."

Desert's tanned face turned the color of a pepper. "I'll show you a fight!" Instead of summoning more rocks, the spirit tackled Pitch. Lucy watched with wide eyes as the two wrestled on the rocky floor. As she watched, confusion filled her mind. Why was Desert attacking Pitch physically? He could cause this whole park to crumble with a wiggle of his finger! Did he think he was better at hand-to-hand combat than Pitch? No, that couldn't be it.  
Then why...?

Lucy happened to notice the rocks near the two wrestling figures. The stones were bathed in warm sunlight.  
Oh, God.

Not caring if she got a scolding afterwards, Lucy bolted out of the shadow's safety.

She acted a half-second too late. Desert shoved Pitch into the sunlight, a smirk on his face. The Boogeyman screamed in pain as steam rose from his skin and clothes. He tried to dart back into the shadow, but Desert pinned him there by the throat. The spirit grinned at the sight of Pitch's pale gray skin begin to burn.  
"There." Desert nodded in satisfaction, "Think of it as a reminder. Maybe next time, you'll rest someplace else. 'Cuz guess what: you're not welcome here!"  
Despite his position and physical torment, Pitch smirked, "Really? I never would've understood that."

"Hey," Desert tightened his hold on Pitch's throat, "It's not just me, Booger. _Nobody_ likes you. We all heard what you did last year." He scoffed, "Can't say I'm surprised. You'd do anything to get what you want, even hurt others. You're nothing but a creep who's afraid of the sun-wha!"  
He was cut off by someone shoving him hard. Since he was taken by surprise, he fell in a heap on the rocky earth. Pitch seized the chance to retreat to the shadows. He winced and gingerly touched his burned face.  
But who...?

"Don't lie!" Lucy snapped angrily, her arms still raised in front of her. Pitch could hardly believe his eyes. She'd been the one to push Desert off.

Lucy continued, "Pitch would never intentionally hurt the people he cares about."

Pitch could only stare at his apprentice, shocked at her defending him.

Desert shook his head to clear it. When he saw the little girl, his bewildered expression twisted into one of hatred.  
"Oh, you are in for it now." He growled.  
Pitch jumped in. He clicked his tongue again, and he was riding Onyx a second later. He raced towards one of the shrinking shadows, snatching up Lucy along the way. The two of them disappeared a moment later, leaving Desert alone.

"Yeah, that's right!" He screamed, "Get outta here and don't come back! Ya bunch of losers!"

* * *

"You can open your eyes now."

Lucy hesitated, then slowly did as she was told. She was still clutching Pitch's cloak with a steel grip, but they were back in the Realm. It was exactly as they'd left it: cold, stony, and creepy to anyone but them. They were standing at its entrance, staring at its eerie majesty.  
Lucy glanced at her mentor and felt her breath stop.

Pitch's face looked like it'd been stuck in a campfire. His cheekbones were nearly charred, and his hair was in disarray.

Guilt washed over her. She hung her head, "I'm sorry, Pitch."

The Boogeyman's eyebrows (if he had any) shot up, "Whatever for?"

"For suggesting we stop there." Lucy replied glumly, "If I'd kept my mouth shut, you wouldn't have-"

"Lucy." Pitch cut her off sharply, "You are _ten years old_."

"And?"

"_And_, there's no way you could have predicted we'd run into one of the world's strongest idiots. I myself didn't think he'd turn up; he's always basking in the sun like a surfer." He smiked lightly, "And quite frankly, it's a good thing you were there. I would've gotten away with much more serious injuries if you hadn't shoved him."

Lucy smiled weakly, "I enjoyed that." She turned to her mentor with utmost serious, "But really; can we give the guy nightmares? I wanna practice on him!"

Pitch chortled and patted her head, "Of course, I will definitely give him his comeuppance for the damage he inflicted on my face."  
Lucy nodded, then yawned. All the hours of unrest were finally catching up with her. Pitch hopped down from Onyx and brought the girl down. Once the riders were off, the Night Mare neighed and flew off into the Realm.

"It's late. You should sleep." Pitch instructed Lucy. The girl, barely awake, nodded and began to walk to her room.

"And...thank you, Lucy." Pitch added after a moment.

Lucy stopped walking for a second. Then, she smiled and shot him a thumbs-up, "Welcome."

Pitch shook his head at the retreating girl. She thought he was thanking her for pushing that dimwit.  
No.  
He was thanking her for what she'd said.


	14. Chapter 13: A Guardian's Guardian

**Okay, another of my OC's is being brought in. I know it seems worthless, but trust me: she'll be important in the plot later on. Hope you like her.  
Enjoy;)**

* * *

Chapter 13: The Guardian's Guardian

"When was the last time you saw the girl?" The police officer asked.

"At the hairdresser." Violet answered, dabbing her eyes, "I had to get my hair trimmed, and since I didn't want to leave her all alone, I brought her with me. But after a while, she got bored and asked me if she could go to the bookstore. I said yes, just as long as she came right back."  
"And that's the last time you saw her?" The officer affirmed, his eyes glinting.

"Yes." Violet nodded, "I gave her the money to buy a few books. For you see," She smiled weakly for the first time in weeks, "Lucy's never been one for toy stores. Bookstores, on the other hand...she can never read just _one_. She has to get more."

"I understand." The officer cracked a smile, "I have a kid that's the same." He got serious again, "But after that, you have no idea what happened to her?"

"No." Violet shook her head miserably, "I called her cellphone twelve times, and she didn't answer." She grew frantic, "My neice has been gone for seven months! I feel terrible! I called everyone in the neighborhood, I put up posters, I searched every inch of the town, but...but I can't find her!"

"Ma'am, please calm down." The officer held his hand up, "I understand you're upset, really. But getting hysterical won't help find your neice. Have you ever considered that she might've just run away?"  
"No..." After a few minutes of silence, Violet's eyes widened, "...But I can understand why she would."

"Really? Why's that?" The police asked, interested.

Violet sighed, "My brother - her father - died more than a month ago with his wife. Lucy didn't take it well. She'd try so hard to make me think she was okay, but I heard her crying in her sleep almost every night. And it didn't help that Marco picked on her every chance he could."  
"Marco?"  
"My son. He..." She sighed, "He's never really forgiven me for kicking my husband out."  
The policeman frowned, "Aren't you married?"  
"Yes, I am." Violet confirmed, "But Franko isn't Marco's biological father. That guy's been gone for ten years now."

"I see." The policeman nodded, "And what did he do to Lucy, if you don't mind me asking?"

"He picked on her." Violet answered sadly, "He did little things, like calling her 'orphan' sometimes, or screaming at her whenever she so much as _touched_ one of his things."

"I see." The policeman said again, "Now, I'm not saying it's definite, but I think you should consider the notion that your neice wasn't kidnapped; she ran away. Children often run away because of family problems like this."

"I know." Violet answered mournfully, "I myself wanted to run away when I was a kid, when my dad was murdered." She shook her head, "But the worst thing is, Lucy blames herself for the tragedy. Marco said so. He said he'd heard her say that they died on her account."  
"Survivor's guilt." The policeman sighed. After a moment's pause, he patted the woman's shoulder, "Ma'am, I can't perform miracles. But I promise that I'll do everything I can to find your neice and bring her home."

Despite her tears, Violet smiled, "Thank you, sir."

As the woman rose and bid the policeman goodbye, a certain white-haired teenager finished writing in a small, pale blue notebook. Even though he knew that it would go unanswered, he looked up and saluted Lucy's aunt, "Thanks, lady. Bye."

Once the lady was out of sight, Jack decided to take his leave as well. After seven months of searching, this was a good lead. At least, it was the best he'd gotten in his entire search.  
Picking up his staff, he climbed out the window and jumped on the roof. He remembered a moment too late that the roof tiles had been sitting under the July sun since this morning.  
"Agh!" He jumped in the air, clutching his burning foot, "Damn!" He slammed his staff on the roof and jumped on it, sighing in relief. He still couldn't believe how hot it got here in July. He'd only been out for a couple of seconds and sweat was already trickling down his back.

Jack knew he was breaking some rules here. He should have been in other countries, giving other kids snow days. Or, at the very least, he should have been at the Pole to help North. When you have to make a toy for every child in the _world_, an extra pair of hands was always welcome.

But Jack couldn't leave Burgess. He hadn't budged from this town for the past seven months, ever since Lucy had disappeared. He knew that the police department was doing everything humanly possible, but Jack never forgot one tiny detail about these people: they were _human_. Ergo, there was only so much they could do. It's not like they could just sprout wings and search for Lucy.

He, however, had the wind on his side.

Even though he doubted Lucy had left Burgess, Jack had still broken into her room a second time. This time, he hadn't allowed himself to gaze at his friend's belongings and reminisce old memories; he'd gone straight to her desk and scavenged for her travel books. Who knows? Maybe she'd hitched a ride.

While Jack didn't really relate to it, Lucy had an interest in travelling. She'd mentioned several times that she wanted to see places like Stonehenge, the Taj Mahal, and the Great Wall. But it was nice to know she had more _realistic_ sights in mind, like New York and various national parks. Luckily, they hadn't been moved, so Jack was able to find the bookmarks marking the places in America Lucy had wanted to go. There'd been at least fifty locations marked, all positioned in North America. He'd copied their names down on a scrap of paper, stuffed it in his pocket, and ridden the wind.

He'd visited **_all_** of them, searching for the russet-haired girl high and low. He didn't leave one place until he'd personally checked every inch of it and was 100% certain that his friend wasn't there. Then, right before taking off, Jack had bought a postcard, just so he could tell Lucy he'd been to one of her dream places.

That had taken five months.

Absolutely no results.

Then, after having a fit and causing a blizzard comparable to the one of '68, Jack had calmed down (sort of) and returned to Burgess. There, he did the same thing the police had done: he looked for Lucy. But he didn't check the library, cafeteria, or mall. Oh, no. He searched for his friend in all the places significant to them, all the places that had inspired the charm bracelet. He hadn't told Lucy, but he'd made one for himself, too. It was identical to Lucy's, only thicker. That armband of ice that became his guide.

The ticket to 'Saw'.  
He explored the cinema from the dusty attic to the inky basement.  
Nada.

The musical note.  
He examined the theatre a couple of miles outside Burgess, where Lucy had participated in the school band (before giving up a few months later).  
Zilch.

The ballerina.  
The last charm on the bracelet, then it would be over. Then, he'd have no more leads.

Slowly, fearfully, Jack walked towards the pond. The sun beat down on him mercilessly. He was sweating so much it looked like he'd just emerged from a pool, and his once-pale face was as pink as a seashell from all the exposure.

Jack knew it was dangerous for him to be around in a place governed by summer. Summer was his polar opposite. He wasn't used to it anymore, and his skin was much, _much_ more sensitive than it had been in his human life. Surely, if he kept sticking around, he'd pass out. Humans were already having heat strokes. Why should the enbodiment of winter be any different?

But he'd promised Lucy. He'd already failed her once. He couldn't fail her a second time.

Finally, Jack reached the pond.

Even though the ice and snow had melted months ago, Jack could still remember the last time he'd been here. As much as he tried to block the memories, they came at him like jackals.

_"Whoa, hey!" Jack stepped forward to help his friend...and stopped. Lucy twirled through the air for half a second before landing on the skates, just barely keeping her balance. The winter spirit couldn't believe his eyes. He'd been hoping that Lucy could skate at the end of this lesson, but he never would've imagined she could do **that!** Jack's thin chest swelled with pride and joy as his little friend cheered._  
_"Jack! Jack!" She made it to the edge of the frozen pond, where she yanked her skates off, "Did you see me?! Did you see what I did?!"_

_"Heck yeah I saw it! Come here!" Jack picked Lucy up like she was weightless and tossed her in the air. Lucy squealed with laughter as the teenager set her back on the ground._

Jack took a rasping breath as tears streamed down his face, landing on the dry soil with a hiss. His vision was blurred, and his teeth were clenched together to stop himself from sobbing.

She wasn't here.  
This had been his last card...and she wasn't here either.

Jack broke down crying, his knees giving away under him. All the guilt, self-resentment, and pain he'd kept trampled down for seven months came crashing down on him like hail.

"Oh, God, Lucy..." He managed to say through laments, "...I'm so sorry. This is all my fault."

The winter spirit sat there wailing until he could cry no more. He'd been holding it all in for months, and now that he'd begun, he couldn't stop easily. His lamentations were heard by no one, and he had no one to comfort him. He hadn't felt this alone since before MiM chose him as a guardian. Even then, he'd rarely cried because there'd been no reason for tears.

Now, there sure as hell was one.

Eventually, Jack's tears dried and his bawls became silent.

But not because he'd stopped crying.

Because he'd passed out from the heat.

* * *

Several miles from where the winter spirit had fallen, a girl slowly opened her eyes. The first thing she felt was heat beating down on her. As a groan escaped her lips, she slowly pushed herself up, sitting in the grass. She rubbed her eyes, a grimace planted on her face.  
"Where...am I?" As she pulled her hands away from her face, the girl examined it. The hand was pale, as though it hadn't seen daylight in quite some time, and the nails were bitten down.

Curiousity gripping her, the girl examined the rest of her body. She was wearing a dress a couple of sizes too large and Mary Janes, and a long, honey-colored braid trailed down her back. This body...it was so...enigmatic. She'd never seen it before.  
The girl stared at both her hands, her eyes widening with confusion.

"_Who_ am I?" She asked no one in particular.

_'You are Molly.'_ A voice whispered.

"Who's that?!" The girl yelped, looking around for the speaker. When she was greeted by silence, she tried again, "Who's that?"

_'You are Molly. That is your name. I am sorry you had to awaken at such an unpleasant time. It took all night for your bones to repair themselves.'_ The voice whispered in her ear. For some reason, the girl found herself calming down. The voice was soothing and kind, the type of voice a mother uses to sing lullabies. Feeling a bit better, Molly got to her feet. For a second, her skinny legs nearly gave out under her, but she regained her footing after a moment.

"Who are you?" She asked, searching the area.

'I am Tsar Lunar.' The voice responded, 'Though humans know me as The Man in the Moon.'

"Man in the...is that why I can't see you?" Molly held a hand over her eyes, trying to block the sunlight. "Because it's daytime?"

_'Yes,'_ MiM replied, _'You have a gift, Molly. All your life, you have been abused because of it. But now, you can use it to help others.'_

"What? What gift? What're you talking about?" Molly asked helplessly, feeling more uncomfortable by the second. She didn't know what this voice was on about. All she knew was that she'd awoken in the middle of a blazing summer day with a blank slate of a memory! At least she knew her bloody name thanks to this...this person. But where was she from? And what was this talk of bones repairing themselves? She was no scientist, but Molly knew that it took a lot longer than a night for bones to heal.

_'Find Jack Frost. You'll know him when you see him. He has white hair and a broken heart. Take him to the Pole before his sorrow ends up destroying him. Keep him safe._

_Farewell...'_

MiM's voice faded.

"No, wait! What-wha-WAIT!" Molly yelled at the top of her lungs, but nothing happened. Even though she'd never seen the person talking to her, she could feel his presence leave her. Molly had never felt so alone. Here she was, with no recollection of her life, and no clue what to do...

"Hey! Number 5570!"

"Huh?" Molly turned around, and for the first time, she realized she'd been lying in the shadow of a building, and an ugly one at that. It was a giant white block with tiny black windows neatly rowed up on each floor. Molly guessed it might've had five or six floors in total. There were electric doors leading to the inside, and Molly noticed the words printed on the glass. It send a shiver down her spine.

BURGESS MENTAL HOSPITAL

Her eyes darted from the door to where she was standing. What looked like the broken end of a rope was lying next to her.

"Hey! I'm talking to you!"

Molly turned to the voice and paled. A guy in a white lab coat was running towards her, a clipboard in his hands and an angry expression on his pudgy face. Molly didn't know why, but seeing his face made her tremble like a leaf. Without thinking, she whirled around and bolted into the woods, not caring where her feet took her as long as it was away from this man.

The guy chased her through the forest...for about ten minutes. Then, he leaned against the bark of a tree, panting and sweating. After a second, he sighed and turned back the way he'd come.

Molly, on the other hand, kept running despite her lungs screaming in protest. She recieved several scratches on her face and arms, but right now, she didn't care. Pure survival instinct took over, compelling her to get as far away from the threat as she could.

Finally, she broke out of the forest and into a small clearing. She bent over, placing her hands on her knees. Sweat ran down her face, making her clothes cling to her thin body. Molly felt drained, but a relieved smile still appeared on her face.

She'd escaped. She was free...for a while, at least.

At least the place she'd ended up in was somewhat familiar. Wiping a stray hair from her face, Molly straightened and got a good look at her surroundings. It was a small clearing with a pond and a few trees. Despite what she'd just endured, Molly found herself smiling a little. If things were a little more...y'know, normal, she'd have loved to have a picnic in a place like this.

Something blue caught her eye.

Molly spun around to see what it was...and gasped, a hand over her mouth.

A boy around her age was lying near the pond, a shepard's stick next to him. He was extremely thin, with a blue hoodie and brown trousers. His sweatshirt was covered in sweat patches. His face was sunburned, which contrasted sharply with a shock of white hair.

Wait...white hair?

_'Find Jack Frost. You'll know him when you see him. He has white hair and a broken_ heart.

"Oh, my..." Molly walked towards the boy and knelt beside him. She placed a hand on his forehead and winced. He was burning with fever.

Heat illness. She had to get him out of here, and fast.

"Uh..." She shook him, "Hello? Jack Frost?"

The boy's eyes barely opened, revealing icy-blue irises. Molly's own cloudy-gray ones widened with concern. "You're really sick, huh?" She asked gently, "Don't worry, I'm gonna get ya help." As she looped his arm around her shoulders, she heard him whisper something. Well, it wasn't exactly a whisper: more like a sigh.

"_Lucy_..."

Molly frowned. Who was that? His girlfriend? Sister, maybe?

She shook her head. She could ask him about that later. Right now, she needed to get him out of this heat.


	15. Chapter 14: Forgotten

Chapter 14: Forgotten

Molly did the best she could. She really did.

She'd tried to drag Jack to the emergency room, but when a nurse had walked right _through_ her, Molly had stopped dead in her tracks. Just to see what kind of result she'd get, she'd set Jack down for a moment and run straight for a doctor. She ran through him like mist.

After getting over a few panicky moments, Molly had decided that this would work to her advantage. She snuck into the supplies room and gathered things like bandages, wet wipes, a bucket, and a _lot_ of bottled water. Then, she'd dragged Jack in there with her, where she spent the next hour dabbing his face and body with water-soaked bandages and forcing him to drink.  
By the end of the hour, Jack was looking almost healed.

_Almost_.

"Who..." He whispered as she pressed a cool cloth to his forehead, "...Who are you?"

Molly stopped for a second, then smiled sadly. She hardly knew the answer to that herself. "I'm Molly. And you're Jack Frost, right?"  
"Y-yeah." Jack groaned as he forced himself to sit up. Molly helped him, her cloudy-gray eyes filled with concern.  
"What happened?" He croaked.  
"You tell me." Molly answered as she pushed Jack's white hair out of his eyes, "I found you delirious by the pond. I tried to get you a doctor but..." She trailed off, wondering if he knew about their current state.

Jack chuckled, "Yeah. Being dead comes with being invisible."

"Wha..." Molly jumped to her feet, "D-dead?! W-w-what do you mean, dead?!"

"'Immortal', then." Jack waved a hand, "It just means you're not human anymore." He eyed her with a cocky grin, "Just like me."

"Oh, spare me the flirt!" Molly snapped, looking at her hands as if to make sure they weren't rotting, "You mean I'm dead?! But-but how?! This...this is impossible!"

Jack sighed and laid the back of his head on the wall, "Women." He watched her rant for about five minutes before holding up a hand, "Calm down. Just...just calm down, okay?"

"Calm down?!" Molly repeated incredulously, "I just woke up with _**zero**_ memory of who I am, and just found out I'm immortal or dead or whatever, and you're telling me to _**calm down?**_ Hmph!"

Jack sighed and held a hand up, "Look, blondie-"

"Molly!"

"Whatever." Jack brushed her words off, "I get that you're shocked, okay? I went through the exact same thing when _I_ was resurrected. I was scared out of my mind at first, but then I got used to it." He grinned to himself, "And having friends helps."  
"You mean..." Molly began to calm down, "...there...there are others?"

"Oh, hell yeah." Jack brought his knees to his chest. He began counting off names with his fingers, "There's Santa, Sandman, the Tooth fairy, the Easter kangaroo-"  
He was cut off by Molly's loud chortling.

He scowled and dropped his hand, "Hey, I'm serious!"

"Yeah, right!" Molly replied between snorts, "The Tooth fairy! How old do you think I am, three?"

"Well, that depends." Jack smirked, "How old do _you_ think you are?"

The smile slipped off Molly's face. She didn't know that. She guessed she was maybe fifteen or sixteen, but she didn't know for certain. That alone filled her with a sense of helplessness. She had a right to know! Why hadn't the Man in the Moon told her more? Why had she been deserted like this?

Jack's expression softened, "Look, I get that you're scared right now. Really, girl; I've _been_ there. Hell, I went on for 300 years without anyone being able to see me."

Molly's jaw dropped, "300 ye-how _old_ are you, exactly?"

"I dunno. Don't remember my birthday." Jack answered like this was no big deal, "I'm stuck at age...I dunno, 16? 17?"

Molly threw her hands up, "Great! What am I gonna do now?"

The corner of Jack's mouth went up slightly, "You helped me out, right?"

"Well...yeah." Molly nodded, "Why, are you gonna give me a pot of gold for thanks or something?"

Jack laughed. Molly thought it was a wonderful laugh, so full of mirth and joy. It was nice knowing this guy was capable of smiling. He'd looked so miserable back at the pond, she'd wondered if he _ever_ laughed. Maybe she'd been wrong about him.

"You wish!" Jack picked up his staff, which he used to hoist himself up. Molly helped him; he thanked her with a smile. "Tooth's the one ya need. She's the Guardian of Memories. Basically, she collects kids' baby teeth since they contain a kid's childhood memories." He tapped himself in the chest with one hand, "That's how I found out who I am."

"Really?" Molly perked up, "You'd take me there?"

Jack held his arms out, "Blondie, I'd probably be roasted if it wasn't for you! This doesn't seem like much!"

Molly's pale face turned the color of a strawberry. "I did what anyone would do. Besides, I don't think you would've _died_. People don't die from sitting in the sun all day."  
"_I_ would've." Jack's humor was gone. He looked right in her eyes, speaking with utter seriousness, "I'm not human, sweet-cheeks. I'm a freaking _winter spirit_. Too much heat can kill me."

"What were you doing out there, then?" Molly demanded, "If you knew what too much heat can do to you, why'd you risk it anyway? For a tan?"

"Fun? Pfft." Jack rolled his eyes, "I wish! I was..." He trailed off, frowning.

Molly's annoyance faded. She put a hand on Jack's bare arm, taking caution not to add more heat to his fevered skin, "Jack?"

"I don't remember." Jack shook his head, looking as confused as Molly felt. For a minute, he didn't look like some cocky, arrogant winter spirit. He looked almost like...a lost little boy.

Molly acted quickly, "Look, sorry I asked. Let's just go to this Tooth. Where do we go from here?"

"Ah, right." Jack took her hand with his free one and led her out of the supplies room. Once they were outside, the temperature increased by fifty degrees. Wrapping an arm around Molly's waist, Jack bellowed, "Wind! To the Pole!"

The wind took its time arriving, but it still surged forward, making the garbage on the street dance. Molly's eyes were the size of Oreos at the unexpected climate change. She let out a shriek and clutched Jack's shirt as they were lifted into the air.  
"We're gonna die!" She screamed, "I'm gonna throw up, and then we're gonna die!"

"Ah, hush up, blondie! Enjoy the view!" Jack answered, gesturing to the shrinking city and forest of orange, brown, and yellow.

"I hate your rotten, frozen guts!" Molly yelled, her eyes wide with fear.

Jack only smirked mischievously.

* * *

Molly burst in through the doors, an arm wrapped around an unconscious Jack's waist. Her long braid had come undone, and she had an anxious expression on her face.  
"I need some help here!" She shouted.

A being that was part hummingbird, part human, gasped and swooped down. Her lilac eyes were filled with concern, "What happened?!"  
"Jack took me here." Molly explained, trying to get over the shock of seeing such a...feathery person. "He-he said Tooth would help me remember who I am. So we rode the wind. But once we got here, he fainted."

"Oh, I'm Tooth, by the way." The feathered woman answered with a quick, nervous smile. Then, she looked at Jack with undisguised horror. "Here, let me." She gently took the boy from Molly's hold. "Oh, my..." She pushed Jack's silvery hair from his eyes, "What..."  
"Before that, I found him in the sun." Molly added, seeing the mournful horror on Tooth's face, "I don't know _what_ he was doing, but he says he can't remember, either."

Tooth stared at Molly like she'd just grown horns. But after a second, she nodded and gave the new girl a smile, "Thank you, really, Miss...?"  
"Molly." The girl answered, smiling softly, "Just Molly."

Jack moaned in Tooth's arms. The fairy took this as a signal to fly off with the boy still in her arms.

Molly watched her go with wide eyes, then realized exactly where Jack had brought her. She could hardly believe it at first, but as the seconds passed, she became more and more convinced.  
She really was standing in Santa's workshop.

It was without a doubt the most incredible place she'd ever seen. Toy airplanes flew around in the air. Kites resembling butterflies and dragons gently floated above her head. The warm air was sweet with the scent of freshly baked eggnog and cookies, and the walls were painted a bright red. There was a gigantic globe standing in front of Molly. Thousands, no, _millions_ of little golden lights were scattered across it like fireflies. Molly grinned as elves scurried around her feet, carrying plates of cookies, Christmas lights, and tools.

All in all, it was the most fantastic place she'd ever been in.

"Wow." She breathed, a smile spreading on her face.

"Oi!"

"Huh?" She spun around just in time to see a rabbit jump down from the floor above. This wasn't just any rabbit, mind you; this one was six feet tall, with bluish-gray fur and leather wrappings on his feet. A boomerang was in one of his paws, and a touch of hostility was visible in his bright green eyes.

"Who're you?" He asked. He had a thick Australian accent, so it took Molly a second to understand what he'd asked.

"Uh-"

"Speak up!"

"I'm Molly." The girl blurted out, "And, uh, I'm gonna assume you're the Easter Rabbit?"

"Yeah." The rabbit relaxed a little, but he still eyed her suspiciously. After a second, he stuck a paw out, "Name's E. Aster Bunnymund. But ya can call me 'Bunny'."

"Gotcha." They shook.

"How'd ya get passed the yetis? I thought they'd be half-decent, keepin' that trouble-makin' Frost outta here-"  
"Jack!" Molly cut him off, "That's why I'm here. He's hurt."

"What?" Bunny stopped talking, his eyebrows flying up, "Frostbite? Hurt? _How?_"

"He had a heat stroke." Molly explained, "I don't know why, but he stayed out in the sun. He got a bit better once I gave him some water, but he was barely conscious when we got here."

"A heat stroke?" Bunny repeated, as though trying to decipher a foreign language, "You're tellin' me the spirit of frozen pipes and bitten noses wandered around in the _summer?_"

"That's exactly what I'm telling you!" Molly replied, beginning to lose her patience.

Bunny frowned at the girl's temper and opened his mouth to retort...when Tooth flew in. "Bunny!" She grabbed his furry shoulders, "Jack's not waking up! I've tried cooling him down, but it's not working!"

Bunny sighed, closing his eyes. "The things I do for ya. Alright, I'll be right there."

* * *

"Alright, nobody panic." Bunny concluded as he pulled a blanket over Jack's still form.

"Nobody panic?!" Molly retorted, "You've been examining him for the past half-hour and that's all you've got to say?"

Rather than answering, Bunny looked at Tooth and pointed at Molly, "Who _is_ this, the Spirit o' Annoyance?"

Molly stomped her foot, "I'm jut worried! Elaborate, please!"

Bunny cracked a smile, "Well, since ya asked so nicely..."

Molly snorted.

Bunny grew serious, "Frosty here used up all his energy, and his body's been under constant stress for months. That, and with the heat, it's no surprise he passed out. So now, he's finally startin' to recover. Give 'im a coupla days in bed and he'll be good as gold."

"Oh, good." Tooth put a hand on her heart, looking like a great weight had been lifted from her shoulders.  
Bunny smirked lightly at his friend's relief, but when he glanced at Jack again, frustration and confusion appeared on his face. He sighed, "What the hell was goin' through the hoon's head, anyway?"  
Tooth shook her head, looking close to tears, "I don't know. He hasn't talked to me in months."

"Yeah, same here." Bunny admitted, "For a while, I thought he'd either forgotten he's in the club now or just decided to fly solo."

Molly frowned skeptically and twirled a honey-colored hair around her finger. Why had this idiot done something he'd known would do him harm? Surely he'd have a reason, right? But why...?  
She stiffened. "I think he said something."

"Did he now?" Bunny faced Molly with fresh interest, "What he say?"

"He said..." Molly struggled to remember, "...A name." She nodded to herself, "Yeah, that's right. He said a name before passing out."

"What name?" Tooth asked gently.

"Lucy." Molly replied, "I'm sure that's what he said."

"Ah, that's right, then." Bunny answered sarcastically, "Now all we gotta do is check every single kid named 'Lucy' in the world."

"Boy, you're a help." Molly muttered.

"No..." Tooth's eyes widened, "I think I know who Jack was talking about."

"Really?" Bunny arched his brows up in genuine surprise, "Who? Someone we know?"

"Not more than the rest of the world's children." Tooth replied sadly, "But Jack told me about her from time to time. She's a friend of Jamie Bennett's. Lucy Rivera."

* * *

Half an hour later, Nicholas St. North returned home from a ride in the sleigh. Even in July, the cookie-loving guardian was constantly testing his sleigh to make sure there weren't any major problems. Once he entered his home and found Bunnymund, Tooth, and a mysterious skinny girl explaining the problem, though, all thoughts of the sleigh were shoved away.

He checked the enormous globe in the workshop, searching for one amongst the millions of lights. Molly frankly couldn't see the difference, but whatever North saw caused him to blanch.

"No, no!" North shook his head, pointing at an empty spot right between two lights, "There should be a light right here!"

"And there isn't?" Tooth inquired thoughtfully, "Maybe Lucy just stopped believing. It's a possibility, right?"

"No, not really, sheila." Bunny countered, "Lucy was _friends_ with one of us. Why would she stop believing in us if she knew we were real?"

"Hmm..." North stroked his beard, his sapphire eyes squinting. After a second, he shook his head, "It's not like she stopped believing; the light is simply...gone. Taken."

"Taken? By who? Pitch?" Bunny asked. Even when no one answered, he pulled out two boomerangs, "I swear, if he took an ankle-biter, I'm gonna-"

"Bunny!" Tooth cut him off gently but firmly, "We shouldn't jump to conclusions just yet. Don't you remember the treaty?"

Bunny sighed and lowered his boomerangs, "Yeah, I remember. I think it's a load of bollocks, but I remember."

"What treaty?" Molly frowned.

North put a warm, meaty hand on the girl's bony shoulder, "I will tell you later, child."

Molly nodded, but she still wasn't satisfied. This whole situation was so frustrating and enigmatic. From what she'd understood, the little golden lights coating the globe were children who believed in these 'guardians'. If one had been 'taken', it could only be from another immortal, like them. How else could it vanish from the face of the earth?

A low moan interrupted Molly's train of thought. For a second, she was confused. But when a second moan, louder this time, rang through the air, she recognized it.  
"Jack!"

Tooth was out of the room in a heartbeat, leaving a couple of bright green feathers behind.

She landed on her tiny feet next to Jack, who was moaning in his sleep. After a second of inactivity, his eyes slowly opened.

Tooth laughed with joy before she could stop herself. Seeing him awake - even in his state - was ecstatic for her. At least she knew some of his energy had returned. She gave the winter spirit a tight hug. Jack stiffened in surprise for a second, but when he saw those brilliant feathers, he hugged her back.

"Hey," She smiled as she pulled away, "How're you feeling?"

"Lousy." Jack winced and rubbed his forehead, "What happened?"

"I don't know." Tooth answered sadly, her shoulders slumping, "Molly just said you had heat illness." She thumped him lightly on the temple, making him grimace. "What were you thinking? I was worried sick!"

"I...don't know." Jack shook his head sadly, "I think...I was looking for someone."

Tooth's annoyance immediately gave way for sympathy. She put a warm hand on his shoulder, "Was it Lucy?"

Jack frowned and stared at Tooth oddly. Bewilderment swam in his icy-blue eyes.

"...Lucy?" He asked, "Who's that?"

Tooth froze. What was he talking about? Was this his idea of a joke? He knew who Lucy was! He talked about her with Tooth whenever they went out on dates! Why was he acting like...?

But he wasn't. Tooth could see it in those big blue orbs. He really didn't know who she was talking about.

Just like that, Tooth understood. She'd seen a few cases like this in children and even adults.

Lucy hadn't stopped believing; she'd been taken. Jack had set out to find her, which was why Tooth hadn't heard from him for seven months. But he'd failed. Somehow, that and something else (maybe pain? Guilt?) had been too much for Jack to bear. So what had he done? Blocked the memory to keep the agony from swallowing him up.

He'd made himself forget his friend.


	16. Chapter 15: Happy Birthday

Chapter 15: Happy Birthday

The eighteen-year-old girl lay on her stomach, her wavy hair spilling into patterns on the rotting floorboards. Her cheek was in her palm, and a soft smile was on her face. Her legs rythmically kicked the air as her fountain pen flew across the diary page, leaving a trail of black words behind.

_That first year with Pitch was definitely the hardes__t. It wasn't easy, getting used to being the Boogeyman's apprentice.  
_

_Since he thought I'd end up in trouble or, worst still, being spotted by the guardians, he didn't let me leave the Realm by myself. I was allowed to go on nightmare crusades with him, but that was it; the only reason he let me come was one, because it would be educative, and two, his presence helped mask mine. Since Santa - no, North - couldn't detect Pitch on the globe, I was invisible as long as I travelled with my mentor. _

_As a result, I spent the days by myself while Pitch rested. At first, I slept, too. But after a few months, I began getting restless. I mean, come on! I was living in such a wonderous place, and I'd hardly seen any of it! So on days when I couldn't sleep, I explored the Realm. The first time didn't go too well; I got lost seven times. By the time I got back to my room, I only had half an hour to get ready to leave with Pitch. But as time went on, I learned to navigate my way around. Hell, I even found a library!  
_

_Pitch was nice, too. He didn't talk except to teach me about his Nightmare Sand, Nightmares, and the guardians. But other than that, he liked being alone. No, that wasn't it. I think...he just didn't know how to be in company anymore.  
_

* * *

_December 10th, 2005_

Lucy sighed and crossed her arms on the windowsill, perching her chin on one of her arms. Her shoulder-long hair billowed gently in the warm, salty breeze. One of the perks of having a room that could change however you wanted was: you could add a window to the world.

Pitch had warned her that if she tried to leave the Realm through the window, he'd find out and drag her back by her hair. Lucy had promised she wouldn't; frankly, the thought had never even crossed her mind. She was content with looking out the window, which changed scenery every couple of hours. One hour she'd be staring at Stonehenge; the next, Hong Kong, and so on. Right now, she was looking at an Ostian beach. It made her feel a bit better, seeing these places from real life instead of in a book.

Jack had promised her to take her to one of them once she'd been old enough.

_'Stop it!'_ Lucy steered away from the window, clutching her head, _'Quit thinking about him! He's the one who killed your family! Stop stop STOP!'_

Lucy sighed and massaged her temples. She'd been living in the Realm for nearly a year, and she still found herself thinking about that spirit - no, that _demon_. She couldn't help it. All her memories about him were good, which made him being her parents' indirect killer that much more painful.

"Jack..." Her vision blurred. She hid her face in her hands, sobbing quietly. God, she felt so stupid, sniveling like a baby over a dolt with dangerous power.

No, she had to be stronger than this. She was going to be the next Nightmare Monarch (Nightmare Queen, in her case). She couldn't afford to let her emotions get the better of her like this.  
Lucy took a deep, calming breath. After a few seconds, the urge to weep faded. The girl smiled to herself. There, that was better.

She needed a distraction. Yes, that's right. A nice, thick book in the library was just what she needed to chase those thoughts away.

Lucy got up from her bed and brushed off her black hoodie, humming to herself. Once she closed the bedroom door behind her, it vanished. The girl grinned to herself as she made her way down the dark, stony corridor. Whenever she or Pitch exited a room, the door to that room disappeared until they needed to reenter it. The only catch was having to remember where the door was located. Otherwise, Lucy would have to sleep on the floor. Still, it was kind of cool.

Ah, there we go! The library!

At the entrance, Lucy immediately felt better. The Realm's book room was indubitably the most awesome she'd ever been in. The room had a spherical ceiling, with dozens of candles with black flames floating in the air. The room's main color was, not suprisingly, black: black stone walls and floors, black armchairs, and black bookcases.

There were millions of books in this room. Millions! All the bookshelves were so stuffed with yellow-paged novels, there was barely half a centimeter of space left. Lucy had never seen so many books in her life! Unfortunately, a good number of them were in dead languages: Latin, Bulgar, Noric, and a few others she didn't recognize.

Lucy tucked some hair behind her ear and plucked out one of the English books: _Heroes of the Golden Age_. Humming to herself, she curled up in her favorite armchair and opened the book on her lap. She coughed slightly at the smell the pages had, but after a few minutes, she was captivated in the stories.

Minutes turned to hours, and the only movement that came from Lucy was her turning a page. She lost herself in tales of dragons that breathed poison, heroes that sliced through the enemy without hesitation, and skies as red as freshly-spilled blood. The most frequently-found hero, Lucy saw, was a character called 'Kozmotis Pitchiner'. He led the Golden Age Armies to capture Fearlings and Dream Pirates, who plagued the era like a disease. His duty was to keep the creatures of darkness imprisoned.  
But one day...

Footsteps. They were so quiet, anyone else wouldn't have heard them at all. But Lucy had grown accustomed to her mentor's silent steps. He was testing her ear, as always. Like he'd often said, enemies often relied on the element of surprise.

She got to her feet.  
"Hello, sir." She greeted Pitch respectfully as he emerged from the shadows with his hands behind his back. He nodded approvingly at her, "Hello, little light. Enjoying my collection?"

Lucy grinned, "Oh, yeah. This is the most incredible library I've ever seen." Her face fell a little, "But some of these languages are extinct." She tilted her head, "How do you know them, sir?"  
Pitch chuckled lightly as he walked alongside the bookshelf. He ran a pale gray hand across the books' spines. "My dear, many of these languages were far from extinct when I bought these books. Times have changed."  
Lucy brightened, "You think you could teach me?"

Pitch stopped for a second, wondering if he'd heard right. "...Yes." He answered after a brief silence, "But know that if I _do_ decide to teach you, we do it all the way. One hundred percent."

Lucy thought about it for a second before nodding, "Okay."

Pitch gave her a small smile before seating himself in the armchair next to Lucy's. After a small silence, he asked, "So, what brings you to my library at this hour?"  
Lucy frowned, "It's only six o'clock, isn't it?"  
Pitch blinked, then threw his head back and chortled. Lucy could only watch cluelessly as her mentor laughed. She was sure her cheeks were the color of peppers.  
When he finally finished, Pitch looked at her almost warmly, "My little light, it's _eleven-thirty_. I was just about to collect you for our nightly expedition."

Lucy's jaw dropped. "Eleven-thirty? Aw, man! I'm so sorry, I just..."

"Lost track of time?" Pitch cut her off, his non-existant eyebrows slightly raised.

Lucy nodded, her cheeks burning.

"Pish-posh." Pitch rose elegantly, "We leave in ten minutes anyway. No harm done." Lucy sighed in relief, placated at her luck. She knew that while Pitch was willing to forgive small slip-ups like this, he could be dangerous if provoked. He didn't seem angry, but better not play with fire. As she stood up, though, she happened to look at all the books sitting on the shelves. It must've taken more than one lifetime to put them all together.  
He'd even said he'd been searching for an apprentice for over a century.

How old _was_ Pitch? A thousand? A thousand and one?

"Sir," Lucy began, "If you don't mind me asking, how old are you?"

There, Pitch closed up. His gold eyes left her chestnut ones, and his face lost any trace of emotion. Lucy was instantly sorry she'd asked.

"I do not know." Pitch answered in a monotone voice, "What about you?"

"I'm gonna be 11 tomorrow." Lucy replied, "What do you mean, you don't know? What year were you born?"  
"Those records were lost long ago, child."

"Oh." Lucy couldn't help feel a bit sorry for the Boogeyman. Ironic, considering he was the being all children were supposed to fear. But right now, as she watched Pitch stand there gazing at his collection, Lucy found herself unable to fear him.  
"Sorry." She knew it sounded lame, but there was nothing else she could think of saying.

Pitch shrugged, not looking at her, "It doesn't matter."

After a minute of tense, awkward silence, Pitch took a deep breath and stepped towards her. "What are we waiting for?" He offered a hand to his apprentice, "Come, my dear. The children are waiting."

Lucy accepted his hand. The shadows peeled off the walls and wrapped around them like cold, inky blankets.

* * *

By the time the sky was streaked with pink and orange, the pair had returned to the Realm. Pitch retreated to his quarters, wherever they may be, after wishing Lucy a good sleep. Lucy did the same, but instead of going to her own bedroom, she waited until Pitch was out of sight and out of earshot.  
Once she was certain that her mentor wouldn't be poking his head in anytime soon, she made her way to the kitchen.

Yes, the Realm had a kitchen. During Lucy's first days here, when Lucy had asked Pitch for food, the Nightmare King had added a kitchen. He'd said that she could go in and prepare anything she wanted for herself as long as she didn't make a mess. This was fine by Lucy; she didn't have to eat peas and carrots anymore, and she didn't have to worry about Marco eating her pizza!

Now, the short girl entered the kitchen with determination. Like the rest of the Realm, this room was carved entirely out of black, cave-like rock. But at least it had an operating stove, fridge, and microwave. She needed all those things right now.

* * *

Pitch was certain that it wasn't nightfall yet. He knew it; if it had been, he'd feel stronger and ready as ever, as the growing shadows would give him healthiness. With his increasing weakness, he needed the vigor the gloom gave him more than ever.  
But now, it was only late afternoon.

Then what...?

A distant noise echoed through the Realm. It sounded like a glass shattering.

Just like that, the Nightmare King knew who was disturbing his sleep.

"Lucy." He climbed out of his bed of umbra, gliding through his kingdom like an obsidian ghost. As he followed the noises, anger coursed through his black veins. How dare she interrupt his sleep?! He'd _told_ her that he needed all the rest he could get! He was weakening by the year! That was why she was here in the first place, right? To take his place once his miserable life ended. She'd always been respectful before now, so why change that now?

She was getting a spanking for this. Pitch had never raised a hand to a child in all his immortal life, but this was different. She was his apprentice. She had to obey him, not do as she pleased!

Before too long, Pitch reached the kitchen he'd built for Lucy. While he hadn't told her why, he'd forgotten that humans need sustenance. So, to save himself the trouble of having to cook, he'd simply made a kitchen with the wave of his hand.  
But he'd made it so she could eat, not bother him!

He appeared in the shadows of the kitchen, ready to scream his head off...

And stopped. His eyes widened.

The kitchen was a complete _mess_. There were five of his ancient cookbooks opened on the counter, and the table was littered with broken eggshells, empty cartons of milk, and burnt biscuits. Other desserts that looked anything but edible were strwen on the counter, stove, and sink. In the midst of it all, Lucy leafed through a sixth cookbook. She was filthy, too: her black bodysuit was stained with flour and milk, she had dark pouches under her eyes from lack of sleep, and her hair had been tied back in a messy ponytail.

_'That's it,'_ Pitch thought to himself, _'She's officially gone_ _mad.'_

He stepped forward, ready to scream loud enough to wake the dead-

Lucy yawned to herself loudly, looking through the pages of the cookbook, "Come on, think. What would make Pitch happy?"

Pitch was so surprised he almost tripped over himself. He quickly burrowed deeper into the shadows, making himself invisible to the human eye.

He didn't realize he'd been panting until he saw his own breath, made visible by the cold air.

She...she was doing all this...for _him?_ Why in the world would she do something like that? He hadn't asked her, had he? No, he hadn't told her of his...condition.

So why...?

Out of the blue, the Nightmare King remembered the brief conversation he'd had with her right before their nightly inquest.

_"Sir," Lucy began, "If you don't mind me asking, how old are you?"_

_There, Pitch closed up. His gold eyes left her chestnut ones, and the smile vanished from his face. He didn't like thinking about things like that._

_To be honest, he had never known his birthdate. Even in the Golden Age, an ancient form of calnder existed. But in Pitch's case, his records of birth had been lost in a fire shortly after his birth. It hadn't been that big of a problem, though; from what he remembered, his parents had told him he could pick any day he wanted, and that would be his birthday. He'd picked the day the first day snow fell, and since then, that had been his 'birthday'. But over the course of the eons, he'd stopped celebrating it altogether. When he'd become the King of Nightmares, he'd simply set it aside. He didn't physically age anymore, so what was the point? _

_"I do not know." Pitch answered in a monotone voice, "What about you?"_

_"I'm gonna be 11 tomorrow." Lucy replied, "What do you mean, you don't know? What year were you born?"_  
_"Those records were lost long ago, child." That was true, but Pitch was determined not to show how much it really bothered him._

Pitch could hardly believe it. **Today** was Lucy's eleventh birthday - her first birthday as his apprentice. He'd never even _considered_ giving her a treat: if he didn't celebrate his birthday, he'd thought, why should his apprentice? She'd spent eternity like him: alone and frozen at a certain age. That would only spoil the joy birthdays were supposed to come with.

And yet here she was, clearly exhausted, on the anniversary of her birth...making something for him. To make him...happy?

A strange feeling stirred within the Nightmare King. It felt...lukewarm, like his icy heart had warmed up a fraction. Pitch found himself almost smiling.

No. This was all wrong. These emotions belonged to Kozmotis Pitchiner, not Pitch Black. He was the Boogeyman. He didn't feel anything nice; he hadn't, since the blackness had devoured his soul. He belonged to the darkness, and the darkness belonged to him. He quickly thought of all the years he'd spent in solitude, all the times he'd walked through entire crowds and people had walked right through him. Those recollections crushed any nice feelings he'd been harboring, replacing them with the bitter anger he knew so well.

Pitch did the only thing he could think of doing.

He ran.

* * *

For the rest of the the daylight hours, Pitch forced himself to sleep. He kept a black satin pillow over his face, blocking out all sounds. As much as he tried, sleep refused to come. Nightmares, ironically enough, plagued him every time he closed his eyes. It was like those terrible images were tattooed in the back of his eyelids.

He found himself reliving the day everything changed. The day Kozmotis Pitchiner died and Pitch Black was born.

* * *

_"No! Silence, creatures of darkness!" Kozmotis shouted, "You will not trick me! You will not be freed as long as I'm here standing." Even though his voice sounded bold, his topaz eyes were shimmering with intimidation. The Fearlings saw that, and they decided to play their last card. This man had been their one obstacle to an era of fear. For years, he'd guarded them, killing any Fearling that managed to escape. His hands were black with their blood._

_But his courage was wavering. They could see it. Because of his abilities and strength, Kozmotis was the only warrior with the task of keeping them at bay. As a result, he couldn't return home to his awaiting wife and daughter. _

_His daughter. Little Eartha Pitchiner. Kozmotis kept a sketch of her in a heart-shaped locket, which he carried around his neck at all times. The Fearlings had extracted her image right out of their guard's mind: such a little thing, barely more than five years old; golden skin just like her father's, with raven-black hair and eyes the color of the most fertile soil. Kozmotis stared at her sketch whenever he was pushed to the limits.  
_

_Aw, isn't that sweet. Well, today they would use it to their advantage.  
_

_"Daddy?"  
_

_Kozmotis stopped. For a second, he wondered if he'd imagined it. He must have. He hadn't heard that voice in so long...surely, it was just a trick of sound.  
_

_"Daddy? Help me, please! I'm scared."  
_

_"E...Eartha?" Kozmotis turned around skeptically. Surely, this was an illusion. His little girl couldn't be here. She was back at home, with his wife. She'd never come to this awful place.  
_

_But no.  
_

_He felt his heart stop. Everything in his world faded. After a second, terror consumed him. Instead of looking at the leering, demonic visages of the Fearlings, he was looking at his dear little girl, just like he remembered her. Her eyes were filled with tears, and her dress was torn. Clutching the toy rabbit he'd bought her, Eartha reached out through the bars.  
_

_"D-Daddy...please, help me! I-it's so dark! I-I wanna go home!"  
_

_"...No. No!" Kozmotis whirled around, covering his ears with his hands, "You are NOT my daughter! Be silent, monster!"  
_

_"Daddy, PLEASE!" Eartha screamed, "I wanna go home! Please, I'm scared! Open the door, please!"  
_

_Kozmotis found himself breaking like a porcelain doll. As the little girl's wails filled the prison, doubt began to seep into his brain.  
_

_What if she WAS in that cell? What if he'd missed a Fearling, and it had taken his only light while he hadn't been looking? What if this wasn't a hoax?  
_

_If it wasn't, and Eartha really ended up being consumed by fear and darkness, Kozmotis would have only himself to blame.  
_

_"Alright." He whispered, turning back to the weeping girl, "Okay, I'll free you."  
_

_Eartha dried her tears, looking at him hopefully.  
_

_Kozmotis walked towards the door and pulled out a ring of keys. After a second, he found the correct one and inserted it in the lock. As the door clicked, the little girl began to change. Her earth-brown eyes turned entirely black, with no pupils, irises, or whites; her skin went from gold to gray; her small, delicate hands turned into claws; fangs potruded from her lips.  
_

_The door opened by half an inch.  
_

_"Okay, honey," Kozmotis looked up, "You can come out-"  
_

_The Fearling shrieked and tackled him, its claws digging into the soft skin of his throat. Kozmotis' tortured screams echoed through the prison as the thing that hardly resembled Eartha ripped through his skin and reached his soul, consuming it. It was the worst agony Kozmotis had ever known. Imagine recieving a burn on your skin, times a thousand. It felt like someone had poured acid down his throat. Kozmotis screamed out, tears trickling down his face. His hollers were left unheard._

_Slowly, his screams died.  
_

_For a moment, he looked almost dead. Then, a cold smile appeared on his now-gray face. He opened his eyes and grinned at the Fearling.  
_

_Kozmotis Pitchiner was dead. Pitch Black was born.  
_

* * *

Pitch shot up from the bed, sweat trickling down his face. His hair was sticking up in every direction. He'd been clutching his pillow so hard, his hands were cramped. As his breathing slowly evened out, Pitch gulped in some air and examined his surroundings. It was dusk now; the room was even darker than before, and he felt the familiar strength that came with the shadow's presence.

"Dreaming...it was just a dream..." Pitch whispered to himself as he wiped his eyes. After a second, he gritted his teeth, "It was nothing."

A small moan made him frown and look around. When he happened to glance at his floor, his jaw dropped.

Lucy, still coated in flour (and now, in cookie batter as well) was snoozing peacefully on the cold stone floor. Her ponytail had come loose, so her russey hair was spread out behind her. Her fingertips were bandaged; clearly, she'd forgotten to put on oven mits. A tray loaded with biscuits was lying next to her, the cup of coffee long-since cold.

She'd really been up all day?

As if she could feel someone watching her, Lucy opened her eyes. When she met Pitch's gaze, she blushed and quickly sat up. "Uh..." She tucked some hair behind her ear, "G-good evening, sir."

"Happy birthday." Came the reply. For some reason, Pitch didn't feel angry towards her anymore. "You know, you really didn't have to do all this for me."

"I wanted to." Lucy answered honestly, "I just..." She shrugged, "I don't know, I felt bad that I had a birthday and you didn't, so I took the liberty of making you something."  
Pitch gave her a tiny smile, "Thank you. I haven't recieved a kindness like this in..." He laughed hollowly, "Ages."

Lucy looked at him hopefully, "So you like it?"

Pitch hesitated for a moment. Should he tell her? No, then she'd realize that all the work she'd put into making these would be wasted. She didn't deserve that.

"Yes."

Lucy blinked, then a slow smile appeared on her face. She jumped to her feet and started cheering like a baseball player that had just made a home-run. Pitch watched with an arched brow as his apprentice left the room, immitating an airplane along the way.

Pitch smiled after her.

The warm feeling was back, but this time, he didn't push it away.


	17. Chapter 16: Violated Treaty

Chapter 16: Violated Treaty

The dark room was silent as a storm began to brew outside. Hail began clacking against the cracked glass windows, and the trees bent and shivered at the approaching wind. The young woman smiled to herself without looking up from her writing. She liked storms. The Earth's plants were recieving water in order to live.

In a way, the girl thought, Pitch was sort of like that. The children recieved his nightmares in order to grow more wisely. But there was one major difference between the two concepts: plants never rejected the water they were given. They lapped it up and used it to survive. But children rarely reacted this way to the nightmares Pitch gave them. They cried and blocked them out, and waited for the guardians to swoop in and make everything better again.

The girl pondered over these thoughts as her pen continued to record the events. She had no time to waste.

_After that, call me crazy, but I began to see a bit of a difference in Pitch. He was opening up to me. We were talking more of our hobbies, lives, and so on instead of just work. I don't know what came over him, but...I liked it. It was almost like having a family again._

_Anyway, I spent the next six months learning about the Nightmare Sand. Yeah, I know it sounds like a long time, but it's actually a very complex substance. I had to learn its origin (which is so long and complicated, that alone took two months), its uses, and how it should be managed._

_By the end of the fifth month, I'm happy to say, I was starting to learn how to **use** it! I was so excited at first! I was beginning to feel like a real Boogey-woman! But it's harder than it looks. You have to be absolutely concentrated on what you want to create, or the Nightmare Sand will remain in a heap in your hand. It took me at least a dozen tries to make something. I guess that's partly due to my own foolishness: I'd wanted to make a scythe like Pitch's. But, of course, it didn't work. So in the end, I settled for a small dagger. That became my signature weapon. With more practice, I managed to make other things, like a flying skateboard. I used that instead of Night Mares. What can I say? Those things creeped me out!  
_

_Finally, Pitch thought I was ready to begin making nightmares. Needless to say, I was so excited I accidentally made my supply of Nightmare Sand explode.  
_

_I had to clean the whole thing up with my hands. I could hear Pitch chuckling from the other side of the Realm._

_Finally, I got to take my first real outing.  
_

* * *

"Alright, Lucy." Pitch began as he walked around his apprentice, his hands behind his back, "It has been a year and a half since I took you in. And I must say..." He gave Lucy a small, genuine smile, "You have made some very good progress. You have watched me do my work, therefore you know what has to be done. I have taught you as much about the Nightmare Sand as you are capable of understanding right now."

He stepped towards the girl and put a clammy hand on her shoulder. To most people, it might been unpleasant, like having a corpse's hand touching them. But Lucy liked it; it felt like home.

He met her chestnut eyes with his golden ones. Lucy could see sincere concern swimming within them.  
"However, I have not forgotten that you are not even twelve yet. I have been doing this task for centuries, my little light. I will not come with you; by now you know where to go, and my Night Mares will spread fear wherever you do not go. But I ask two things of you. One," He held up a hand, "You may only travel in North America. I know that land like the back of my hand. Thence, if you should ever run into trouble, I will assist you."

"But America's huge." Lucy protested, "How would you know exactly where to find me?"

Pitch smiled, "This brings me to the second notion." He held his hand out, "Hold out your wrist, please."

Lucy was sure to give him her bare wrist; the one that didn't bear Jack's bracelet. Even after a year and a half, she found herself unable to remove it.

Pitch took her small, olive hand in his own, running his fingers over the soft skin. He tickled her palm with his thumb, making her giggle. Pitch smiled in return before getting to business. He snapped his fingers, and black sand levitated out of his sleeve and around Lucy's wrist. The little girl watched in amazement as the obsidian sand thickened around her wrist, transforming into a black iron cuff. Lucy's jaw dropped, "Whoa!"

Pitch smiled and pulled his hands away, watching his student hold her wrist to the dim light. Her eyes sparkled like fountain pennies, "This is so cool!"  
She turned to her master, "So, this is like a GPS?"

Pitch frowned, "A what?"

"A GPS. You know, it's like..." Lucy trailed off, realizing how cut off Pitch had really been from the outside world. Explaining the whole thing to him would take hours. Shrugging, she said, "Never mind."

Pitch still looked puzzled, but he resumed talking, "Anyway, this cuff holds many protective spells that will keep you invisible. That way, those foolish guardians won't see you and try to steal you away."

"But I wouldn't let them." Lucy said, a trace of panic entering her voice, "I don't wanna be with them. I wanna be with _you_."  
Pitch looked away so Lucy wouldn't see him smiling warmly. When he turned back to look at the child, his face was blank. "Very well. But this is still a precaution. I still have to teach you self-defence. But these will only work for those fools, child. You are still a human; as a result, you are still very visible to humans."

"Got it." Lucy grinned and held out her hand. Black sand spiralled out of the gourd tied to her waist. It formed into her small dagger, which she gripped tightly. Pitch was bursting with pride, but he was bent on not letting it show.

"Be back by dawn, just as we have always done. Speak with no one, and do not linger in one home too long. Do not give everyone nightmares; only six out of ten children, and a quarter of the adults you see." Pitch stated, looking her right in the eye as he did so, "And if anything - and I mean _**anything**_ - should happen, simply call my name."

Lucy's eyebrows shot up, "That's it? Just call your name?"

"Yes." Pitch nodded, "I will hear you, trust me."

Lucy nodded, a smile on her face, "Okay, sir. I won't fail."

Pitch felt a rush of warmth for the girl, but he kept his expression blank. "I know you won't." He stated. With that, he quickly inspected his apprentice's outfit: besides the usual black bodysuit, he'd made her wear a long, ripped black clock that concealed her face. That way, in the off chance someone was outside, all they would see is a small figure in black. No one would recognize her as the girl who'd vanished a year and a half ago. Her identity would be safe. He pulled the hood over Lucy's head, completing her disguise. Satisfied, Hhe waved a hand and turned around, "Run along now, child. The children await you."

Without waiting for an answer, he began to reenter the Realm, the shadows clinging to him like fog. He did not want to see her leave; he might change his mind at the last second. It felt kind of odd, the prospect of being by himself after a year and a half of company. Still, he'd better get used to it. He'd been alone for centuries and never shed a tear. Why should he get upset if he was left alone for one night?

"Pitch, wait!"

Pitch frowned and whirled around. "What is it-"

Lucy wrapped her arms around his waist, nuzzling her face in his cloak. The Nightmare King froze, his eyes wide with surprise. He looked at his apprentice, just to make sure he wasn't imagining it.  
Nope. A child really was snuggling _him_, the being all children were supposed to fear. Pitch stared at Lucy for a long moment, not sure what to do. As pitiful as it might have sounded, he couldn't remember the last time he'd been embraced. He'd been the Boogeyman for so long, and no one wanted to hug the likes of him. Even before that, he'd spent months abroad; he hadn't had many a chance to hold his daughter close.

It felt...nice. Almost like a room had finally been aired after years of being locked.

Smiling softly, Pitch knelt down and returned the hug, pressing his hands against Lucy's shoulder blades and resting his chin on the top of her head. For a long moment, the master and apprentice stayed like that, enjoying the comfortable silence and comfort in each other's arms. Then, Pitch cleared his throat and gently extracted himself from Lucy's grasp. Straightening to his full 6'3 height, he folded his hands behind his back, "Go on now. You wouldn't want to be late on your first night, would you?"

Lucy grinned, "No, sir. Bye!" With that, she summoned her black skateboard and flew out of the Realm.

Pitch watched her go, the corner of his mouth curved upward.

* * *

Lucy travelled through North America, spreading fear wherever she went. She had to admit, she felt a little guilty at turning a child's sweet, golden dream into a nightmare. Seeing the serene smiles leave their face and hearing their terrified whimpers felt like someone had poked Lucy's heart with an iron. But she had no choice. She had to show kids their fears, so they may learn to face them. The rationality and dedication to her new work urged Lucy to poke the golden sand with her knife, staining it black.

The guardians found it to be so _wrong_, but how was their job any worse? They filled a kid's childhood with hope, wonder, fun, and sweet dreams. They gave kids an ideology of the world that was actually pretty inaccurate with the real thing.

They gave children the most delightful fantasies they could conceive of, but they failed to understand that everyone wakes up from their dreams; same old, bitter life awaited them. The more you hope, the more crushed you feel when things don't go the way you'd been hoping. Fun and wonder were all fine and dandy, but what happens when play time is over, and Christmas passes? Children have to face harsh reality all over again.

The way Lucy saw it, her mentor helped keep children connected to reality. He helped them more with his mordant truths than the guardians did with their sugary fantasies.

Oh, look at that! Lucy was almost done already, and the sky was barely navy blue yet! Pitch would be proud of her.

She only had one town left to visit: Burgess.

* * *

Molly hummed to herself as she walked along the rooftops of Burgess, her honey-colored hair flowing behind her. Even after a year of this routine, she never got tired of the peace that came with a sleeping city. She watched the stars as she hopped onto a new roof, being careful not to make too much noise.

Molly was now an honorary guardian, but few children believed in her. She didn't have to worry too much about being seen or heard, but it was better not to play with fire.  
Molly was the Guardian of Warnings. In other words, she could see things that would occur in the near future, and whenever she did, she was quick to sketch it out. These warnings were never for her; they were always for a child in Burgess. Why this small town, Molly did not know. Perhaps because it was her hometown. Either way, she saw small misfortunes that had yet to happen in a child's life. Each day, it was someone different.

That must have been what the Man in the Moon meant when he'd declared she had a 'gift'. Ergo, she spent the nights wandering the town, leaving the sketches she'd made during the day in the chosen child's room. They were never tremendous forewarnings, oh no. They would be small things, such as the death of child's pet or failing a test. While she didn't exactly enjoy indirectly telling these children of what bad luck would fall upon them, it felt comforting in a way. She was preparing them for what was going to happen so that they could prepare themselves or, better yet, try to stop it.

She'd hardly changed since the day of her rebirth. She hadn't aged a day, but now, she kept her waist-long hair loose, and she carried a small satchel filled with the drawings she'd made.

While Molly had been given her baby teeth to unlock her memories, the newest guardian had yet to open them. She was content with her life now. What did it matter, who she used to be? She had friends, a home (the Pole), and a close friend in Jack Frost.

But even after a year, a small question bedeviled her. Jack had honestly forgotten the answer to that, and the guardians had been tight-lipped about it. It was something that, despite her visions, Molly didn't know:

Who was Lucy?

As if in response, a small_ thump_ echoed through the warm night air.

"Huh?" Molly spun around, her cloudy-gray eyes alert. There! Just a couple of houses away, a figure was on the rooftop. Molly couldn't out who it was: it wore a black, torn mantle, and its face was obscured with a cloak. Where had this person come out from? Molly was assertive that she'd been the only night-walker a minute ago. What was this person doing?

Taking no notice of the newest guardian, the person crawled down the roof and sat on the windowpane. He/she checked to see if the window was locked, then opened it. Quiet as a shadow, he/she crept into the room.

Molly bolted towards the house, her thin legs pumping. She didn't know who this person was, but she couldn't just stand by and watch while he/she harmed somebody, especially if it was a child.

She reached the window just in time to see the person stand over the bed of a certain young boy with messy brown hair. Molly felt the pit of her stomach freeze when she recognized the kid's face.

Jamie Bennett, Jack's first believer. He'd been her first believer, too.

The figure stopped when he/she saw the golden dream above Jamie's head. It showed a laughing Jamie engaged in a snowball fight with a girl around his age. The girl was quite thin and had a bobcut. The girl pointed and yelled, "Look! It's Lindsay Lohan!"  
"Where?!" Jamie whirled around, his eyes wide.  
A snowball hit him in the back of the head, sending him face-first in the snow. Jamie sat up and shot the girl a playful glare. Then, the two shared a laugh.

The figure sighed and reached for something on his/her side. Inky sand crawled out and entered Jamie's dream, quickly turning the golden sand black. The happy scene morphed; the girl disappeared, leaving a desperate Jamie screaming her name, tearfully begging her to return. The figure swallowed back a sob and prepared to leave.

Molly couldn't believe her eyes. So, this wasn't an ordinary human after all! The guardians had described a person like this.  
Black clothes...  
Black sand that gave people nightmares...

Was this...the Boogeyman?

Either way, Molly didn't care. The Nightmare King had picked the wrong kid to haunt.

"Hey!" She barked.

The figure gasped and turned around, peering at Molly from the hood. Strange; the guardian hadn't expected the Boogeyman to look so...timid? Young? Short?

Still keeping a fierce expression plastered on her face, Molly stepped into the room. "Look, I don't know how you got out of your prison, but you'd better change the dream back. Or _you'll_ be the one having nightmares."  
The Boogeyman wrung his hands together, speaking in an exaggerated deep voice, "I-I can't."

"Why not?!" Molly snapped, taking caution not to awaken Jamie.

The Boogeyman held his arms out, "Because it's life. Jamie has to learn to deal with his fears. And he can't do that if he's thinking about your foolish fantasies all day."

Jamie cried in his sleep, loud whimpers escaping his throat.

That did it.

Quick as lightning, Molly pulled out a handgun she carried for self-defence, "I'm not gonna ask you again." Of course, Molly wouldn't actually shoot; usually, she only kept it for show. But the Boogeyman squawked at the sight of it. Instead of fighting back like Molly expected him to, he spun around, opened the door, and raced down the corridor.  
"Wha- hey! Come back!" Molly whispered furiously, chasing the Boogeyman down the hall. The Nightmare King slid down the banister and jerked the front door open.

He was getting away. After making Jamie cry in his sleep, _that monster was trying to get away!_

"I said, come back!" Without thinking, Molly squeezed the trigger. Instantly, she regretted it. She hadn't meant to harm him - or anyone, for that matter. She'd simply hoped to scare him into complying.

The bullet hit the Boogeyman, who screamed in agony and grabbed his shoulder.

That shriek stopped Molly in her tracks. Realization hit her like a truck.

_That was a girl's scream._

Turning to glare daggers at Molly, the female clutched her shoulder and reached for her side with her free hand again. Black sand flew out and formed a black skateboard.  
"No, wait!" Molly rushed to the girl, but the child only growled in response and climbed onto the board.  
Molly grabbed the girl's cloak, "Wait! I didn't mean t-"

A foot embedded in her throat cut her off. Molly choked and fell on her back, wincing. She rubbed her burning throat, shock filling. Had she really just been...?

The girl glared hatefully at the guardian. She looked so small, wrapped up in that long cloak. Crimson droplets steadily dripped onto the pavement. Molly had never felt so guilty in her life.

Before Molly could so much as open her mouth, the girl hissed, "Go away. Leave us alone."

With that, the skateboard zoomed into the sky, taking the wounded girl with it.

* * *

"You what?!" Bunny shouted, making Molly wince. He groaned in exasperation and slapped a paw over his eyes, "No, no, no, no, NO!"

"I didn't mean to!" Molly snapped, "I never would've done it if I'd known! I was just trying to - to..."

"Molly." Tooth flew down and put a gentle hand on Molly's shoulder. She looked into the girl's cloudy-gray eyes with her violet ones, "I understand, honey. I do. But I'm afraid..." She trailed off and looked at North, "She should know."

"Know what?" Molly asked, nervousness etched in her voice, "What's going on?"

North didn't answer immediately. He finished his eggnog first, then ate a biscuit. Molly sighed and tapped her foot impatiently. Finally, the Russian man answered, "After zee first fight vith Pitch, Manny made treaty."

Molly arched a brow, "Treaty?"

"Yes," North nodded, "Simple, really. Vee do not hurt Pitch, Pitch does not hurt us."

"But I didn't hurt Pitch," Molly said miserably, "I hurt a kid. A human."

"Yes, I vas getting there." North sighed, "Manny vas vorried zat Pitch might harm zee children again, zo he added zomething to zis treaty: It is forbidden for an immortal to 'arm a child."

Molly's blood went cold.

"And...if an immortal happens to hurt a human?" Molly asked, not sure if she wanted the answer.

"Depends on who's protectin' the kid, mate." Bunny cut in, "Like, if someone hurt my blonde little anke-biter," He smiled fondly at the memory, "_I_ can choose howtta punish the bloke."

Molly's blood was ice now. "And...who was that kid's protector?"

"Who do ya _think?_" Bunny asked drily.

Molly groaned and slapped her forehead. She was as good as dead.

* * *

"**_Pitch!_**"

The Nightmare King looked up sharply from the novel he'd been reading. Posthaste, he ran into a shadow of the library...

...and stepped into the 'throne room' an instant later. Lucy, now with her hood down, flew in from the window on her black skateboard. Her face was ashen, and she looked just about ready to pass out. She was clutching her shoulder with a white-knuckled grip.

"Lucy, what happened?" Pitch asked immediately, his gold eyes focused on her shoulder. Lucy was about to respond when her skateboard suddenly vanished, making her fall the last few feet to the ground.

Pitch lunged forward and caught her easily. Lucy buried her face in his chest, her breathing strained. Seeing her like this filled the Nightmare King with despair. He let her go off once and she gets hurt! This was entirely his fault!

He gently tucked her wavy hair behind her ear, "Lucy. Lucy, look at me." The girl did so, trying not to look so pained.  
"What happened?" He repeated, more gently this time.

Lucy sniffed and, instead of answering with words, pulled the cloak away from her shoulder.

The black fabric of hr bodysuit was sticky with blood.


	18. Chapter 17: Eye For An Eye

Chapter 17: Eye for an Eye

Pitch carried the child straight to her room, laying her on her small bed. Pushing the hair out of Lucy's closed eyes, Pitch asked, "Does it still hurt?"

Lucy nodded as more blood trickled from her wound. Pitch growled to himself, anger surging through his veins like hellfire. Curse that Man in the Moon! He must have chosen a new guardian, and just out of sheer misfortune, Lucy had run into _that_ one! Pitch saw no other logical explanation. There was no way his apprentice would've gotten hurt if that wasn't the case. The charms he'd cast on the cuff Lucy was wearing only worked against the guardians he already knew. They were worthless against a power he didn't even _know_ about.

Because of that blasted MiM, Lucy was injured.

"Lucy, I'll work as quickly as I can." Without waiting for an answer, Pitch dug two fingers in Lucy's wound. Her pupils dialated; a blood-curling scream escaped her. The Nightmare King didn't blink as he plucked out the sticky bullet. He stared at it hatefully before effortlessly crushing it between his forefinger and thumb. Tears of pain streamed down Lucy's face, "Is...is it over?"

Pitch offered her a small smile, "Yes, it is."

Lucy smiled back weakly, "Did...I do okay?"

Pitch didn't understand what she meant for a moment; then, he realized she was talking about her first outing.  
He nodded, "More than okay."  
Lucy sighed in relief, then winced slightly at her wound.  
"Fear not." Pitch assured her, "When I put my finger in the gash, I placed some black sand into your blood. It will help you heal."

Despite her physical suffering, Lucy's eyes were bright with interest, "Really?"

"Yes." Pitch nodded, "How else do you think I survived for so many years? While most of my injuries heal on the spot, I need a little help from time to time."

Lucy smiled tiredly, "Thank you."

Again with the warm feeling. It was becoming more and more common. The Nightmare King wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not. Pitch shrugged off his apprentice's thanks, "No need to thank me, my little light. You are under my protection and care. It is only natural that I take care of you."  
"Yeah, but still." Lucy continued to smile, "My parents never really sat down with me when I got hurt. They cleaned me up, but that was it."

"Oh?" Pitch shifted so he was sitting more comfortably, "You never speak of your parents."  
Lucy looked away. She spoke in a flat voice, "They're dead."

"...Oh." Pitch had never considered the possibility of Lucy being an orphan. She'd never spoken of them in the year and a half she'd lived here. Come to think of it, she rarely spoke of her old life at all. At first, Pitch had been glad; he'd figured, **_this_** was her life now. If she thought about her old one, she might miss it and run away. But now...he wondered what he actually _knew_ about this girl. He'd told her more about his past than he'd ever told anyone in his immortal life.

Lucy must've sensed her mentor's hunger for knowledge, for she spoke after a second, "They were both university professors. My mom taught chemistry while my dad taught philosophy."

"Ah," Pitch nodded, "And here I thought your love for books was entirely coincidental."

Lucy cracked a smile, "Nah." She played with a lock of her hair, which was now a couple of inches past her shoulders. "They were always busy, so they never had much time for me." She hesitated, then looked up to meet Pitch's gold orbs. The Nightmare King recognized that expression: she was debating whether to tell him what she was thinking\feeling or not.  
He shrugged, trying not to appear too uncaring, "You may tell me or not. I won't force you if you'd prefer to keep it to yourself."

Lucy blinked, then looked away. There was a long silence in the small room, interrupted only by the faint neighing of Night Mares outside. After around three minutes of censorship, Pitch stood up, "I will see you this evening."  
Lucy didn't reply. The Boogeyman ignored the small pain in his chest and walked towards the door.

His pale gray fingers had just brushed the doorknob when Lucy spoke: "They were always busy with lesson planning and stuff."  
Pitch glanced back at her.

She stared at the ground as she continued, "...and w-when they died..." Tears filled her eyes, "...I never got to tell them...h-how...how much I loved them." She buried her face in her pillow, and her shoulders began to shake.

Pitch's invisible eyebrows threatened to levitate off his face. He'd never seen the girl cry (except the first night he'd seen her, when she'd wept in her sleep), and he was usually the one who _made_ children cry, not help them stop. He honestly didn't know what to do, even if he was compelled to take some course of action. For some reason, he didn't want to simply stand by and watch her bawl.

After a few seconds, Pitch did the only thing he could think of doing: he walked back to Lucy's bedside and gently placed his hand on her head. Lucy's sobs subsided a little, but the tears still rushed forth. After a few minutes of wailing, Lucy looked up and wiped her eyes.

Pitch chose his words carefully. While he did want to make her feel better, he did not want to lie to her. He spoke, "Lucy, I know how it feels to lose someone close to you. I also know what it's like to not tell them how much they mean to you." He knelt down so he was staring right into her eyes, "But you cannot continue to look into the past. We cannot change what has happened. But we _can_ do something about what has yet to occur."

Lucy nodded, taking in his words. She sniffed and wiped her eyes again, "You're right. Thanks." She wrapped her stick-like arms around Pitch's neck, cutting him off guard. The Nightmare King's eyes widened. Two hugs in less than a day? He couldn't deny his shock.  
But he couldn't deny his...joy, either.

He returned the hug awkwardly before pulling away. "Now," He brushed off his robes, "On to more important matters. I do not know if I've ever told you of the treaty between the guardians and I. Have I?"

Lucy thought for a moment, then nodded, "You're not allowed to attack each other. And you're not allowed to attack a guardian's believer; if you do, the guardian can choose your punishment."

Pitch smiled like a proud father, "Indeed. And vice versa."

Lucy beamed, "So you can choose howtta punish that girl who shot me?"

"Yes." Pitch nodded, "It is perfectly in my power to do so." He chuckled, "I must say, I'm feeling rather excited. I get to harm a guardian, and it is perfectly allowed!" His face fell a little, "However, there is one bump on the road."

"What?" Lucy tilted her head.

"According to the treaty," Pitch explained, "I cannot just meet up with the guardian I'm allowed to punish. I have to encounter all of them. Apparently, they're a package deal." He groaned and rubbed his temples, "Those dopey, goody-goody, nauseating, blithering, idiotic pack of-"

"Okay, okay! I get it." Lucy held her hands, cutting off her mentor's grumbles. Pitch glanced up at her, looking sheepish.

"My apologies."

"No problem." Lucy slid off the bed and flipped her hair over her shoulder, "When're we going? Tomorrow?"

"Yes." Pitch nodded, "According to the treaty, the punishment must be carried out exactly 24 hours after the violation has occured. What time did that fool harm you, my little light?"

"I dunno." Lucy thought for a minute, "It was the last house I had to visit. The sky was turning purple."

Pitch nodded in comprehension, "I see." He ran a hand through his glossy dark hair, "We shall leave for the Pole the moment we finish our duties."

Lucy frowned, "Why can't I go by myself again?"

"Because the moment I let you out of my sight, a dim-witted blonde made you lost half a pint of blood." Pitch answered coolly, "No more outings for you for a while. Not until you've healed."

"But I don't want you getting tired!" Lucy protested, "You said it yourself: you're getting weaker. If you keep pushing it to the limit, you'll just die sooner!"

Pitch found himself at a loss for words. Even if it was for her own protection, Lucy was turning down being accompanied so that Pitch wouldn't tire. She was trying...to _help_ him.  
Pitch allowed himself the tiniest of smiles as he spoke, "Even as I grow weaker, child, I must continue my work. Up to my last breath."

Lucy didn't like it at all, but she could see that he wasn't going to be swayed. She nodded, "Okay."

Pitch gave her an approving nod, "Very good." He held a hand out, "Come now. The day has died, my dear."

Lucy beamed and accepted his hand.

* * *

The next few hours passed rather quickly. After Lucy threatened to jump off her skateboard, Pitch agreed to allow her to spread nightmare along the West coast while he covered the East. Much to the Nightmare King's relief, his apprentice returned in one piece. They got the job done even sooner than Lucy had anticipated, so they arrived at the Pole right on time.

However, the same cannot be said about the guardians. Aside from the elves and yetis, who stared at the pair like they were flies on the wall, the Pole was empty. Pitch sighed heavily and folded his arms, waiting impatiently. He just wanted to get this over with so he could return to the Realm.

Lucy, however, was anything but annoyed. Even though she knew she should hate the guardians, she couldn't stop gawking at all the wonder around them. Before becoming Pitch's apprentice, she'd often dreamed of visiting places like this.

The air, which was sweet with the scent of eggnog and cookies, was filled with flying toy airplanes and colorful kites. There was a gigantic globe in the center of the room much like the one Pitch had, only this one was filled to the brim with golden lights. Lucy stared with wide eyes as the yetis crafted toys according to the ice sculptures beside them.  
All in all, this place was everything the Realm wasn't.

Pitch caught her staring, and Lucy looked at her feet shamefully. "What time is it?" The Nightmare King asked.

Lucy glanced at the sky, "Right before dawn, sir. The sky's starting to turn pink."

Pitch sighed again, "They cause this meeting to happen and _still _manage to be late."

Lucy nodded, still blushing from being caught eyeing the enemy's territory. Pitch might've felt a tiny bit guilty, but he quickly crushed that sentiment. She was his apprentice. She couldn't start drooling over Santa's toys like so many other children did.

Finally, the pair heard an engine above their heads. Lucy frowned and looked up while Pitch examined his nails. The little girl's jaw dropped as a large gold airplane flew around the globe, leaving a trail of golden sand behind it.  
"Sir," Lucy tugged at her mentor's sleeve, "Who's that?"

"Sanderson ManSnoozie." Pitch answered distastefully, like the name had a rotten flavor in his mouth, "Or the Sandman, as you know him. He brings sweet dreams to all."

Lucy nodded and moved closer to her mentor. She pulled on her black hood, making it conceal her face even more. She stared with wide eyes as a man floated down from the plane, which dissolved into gold sand.  
_This_ was the Sandman?

He was everything Pitch wasn't. Pitch's overall appearance was dark, while this guy was completely golden: gold eyes, hair, skin, and robes made of dream sand. While Pitch was tall and slender, this man was shorter than her (and she was only 5'1) and sort of chubby-looking. His hair formed five spikes over his head like a star. He had a cheerful face, but when he saw Pitch, his arms were almost as crossed as his expression.

Pitch snickered coldly, "Hello, Sandy. Still drinking eggnog, are we?"

Sandman's eyes narrowed further, but he happened to glance at Lucy. The girl gasped slightly and hid behind Pitch. She felt the Nightmare King's cold hand rest on the back of her head.

Sandman frowned skeptically, and golden sand formed over his head. Lucy watched with slight fascination as the sand shaped into two figures: one was clearly Pitch, while the other was a short person with a question mark for a face.

Lucy blinked. So, the Sandman was mute. Interesting.

Pitch's eyes narrowed, and he pulled Lucy closer to him, "My apprentice's identity is of no concern to you, Sandy."

Sandman scowled and stuck his tongue (also gold) at the Nightmare King.

Before Pitch could flip out, the rest of the guardians showed up: North, covered from head to toe in snow, marched towards the Nightmare King with Jack Frost and the Easter Bunny by his side. A hummingbird-like woman flew in from the window, shaking off the snowflakes from her brilliant feathers. A young girl with waist-long hair trudged behind them, looking like a rabbit caught in a snare.  
Lucy winced at the sight of Jack and reverted her gaze to the floor.

"So sorry ve are late," North didn't sound particularly sorry, "But Jack decided to have an outing, and we had to track him down."

"Yeah," Bunny rubbed his stomach, looking a bit green in the face. He glared at Jack, "You owe me lunch, mate."

Jack smirked, "How 'bout a snow cone?"

"Ah!" Bunny waved a paw at him, looking very irritated indeed, "Away with you."

Lucy felt a bit hurt at seeing Jack so...cheerful. It seemed he'd gotten over her fairly quickly. Suddenly, the bracelet he'd given her a year and a half ago was as heavy as lead.

Pitch folded his hands behind his back, "Now that everyone's bothered to show up, we have some matters to discuss."

"Yes." The girl stepped forward, her face as red as a tomato. "I'm very sorry I hurt your believer, sir. If I'd known, I swear I wouldn't have even pulled out my gun."

"Oh?" Pitch arched a brow, "But you believed that my apprentice was me, correct?"

"Y-yes."

"So, you were willing to shoot me while I minded my own business." Pitch observed drily.

Molly blushed furiously and rubbed her arm, looking at anything but the Nightmare King.

"Hey!" Jack stepped forward, pointing the staff at Pitch, "Leave her alone."

"Relax, Frosty. I'm not going to hurt your little girlfriend." Pitch said icily, "However, seeing as she shot _my_ apprentice, I would say _I_ am the one who chooses her punishment. It is our law, correct?"

North sighed, "Yes, zis is true."

"Very good." Pitch nodded approvingly. He turned to Lucy, who was still hiding behind him. His tone softened when he spoke to her, "Little light, pull out your dagger."

The guardians all gasped, six pairs of eyes the size and shape of saucers.

"Whaddoya mean, ya sorry excuse for an immortal?!" Bunny exclaimed, stepping forward with his boomerang.

Unwavered, Pitch replied, "Eye for an eye, tooth for a tooth, rabbit. That girl gave my apprentice a shoulder wound. Now, my apprentice will give her an injury in the exact same spot."

"Really?" Lucy looked at Pitch with wide eyes.

Pitch gave her a dark smile. "Make me proud."

Lucy cracked a smile and held her hand out. Black sand crawled out of her side and formed into her palm. A small dagger as dark as midnight appeared.

Molly's face turned chalk-white.

"Pitch!" Tooth swooped down, her violet eyes begging, "This is going too far! You're being too harsh!"

"I am the Nightmare King, madam." Pitch hissed in reply, "I am not famous for being soft."

Lucy marched towards Molly, the knife in her hand. The girl backed away, her eyes wide with terror, "N-no, I-I'm s-s-sorry, I-"

Lucy stabbed Molly in the shoulder, right where her own wound was. She left it there for a second - just long enough to see dark red form on her shirt - before yanking it out. Molly gasped and collapsed to her knees, her hand flying to her gash. Blood dripped on the stone floor.  
"Molly!" Tooth flew to Molly's side, her arm around the thin girl. Her face blanched at the wound, but she helped the girl to her feet, "Come on, we'll get that dissinfected."

_ZAP!_

"Ah!" Lucy's legs were incased with ice, sending her toppling on the floor. Jack pounced on her, his icy-blue eyes filled with fury.

"You little monster!" He punched Lucy in the face, making her cry out, "You little demon! How DARE you hurt Molly! I should turn you into a statue! You-"

Black sand flew out and slammed into the winter spirit, sending him screaming and flying across the room. He crashed into the window, sending glass showering down like a glittering, deadly rain. Bunny grabbed Tooth and Molly, pulling them out of the way.

North turned to Pitch, "Pitch, you dog! I know Jack did not act vell, but-"

"Don't look at me," The Boogeyman answered defensively, holding his hands up, "I didn't so much as blink."

"Then who...?" North's sapphire eyes darted to the obsidian sand, which was creeping back to the cloaked child. The kid turned away so no one would see his/her face, but Bunny caught sight of a russet lock peeking through. The black sand coated the kid's frozen legs, then shattered the ice. As the kid got to his/her feet, Pitch clapped slowly.  
"Well done, apprentice," He complimented Lucy, "You have made me _very_ proud."

"Thanks." Lucy answered coolly, "It was fun."

Jack poked his head out, his white hair wet and dripping. Bunny bit back a chortle, "What happened to ya, mate?"

"I flew out the window and into the lake." Jack answered, staring at the cloaked kid like he/she was a rat in his bathroom. The kid met his gaze for a moment before looking away. Lucy marched back towards Pitch and took his hand, "C'mon. Let's go home."

"Gladly. All this cheerfullness was making me sick." Pitch picked up the kid as though he/she were weightless and nodded at the guardians, "Goodbye, guardians. Hopefully, our paths will not cross again in the near future."

With that, he clicked his tongue. Black sand crawled out from the bottom of his robes and slithered across the floor. It shaped into a large, terrifyingly beautiful Night Mare. Still holding the child, Pitch mouted it and tugged at its mane. The nightmare stallion flew out the shattered window.

Jack watched as it became a mere black speck in the infinite white sky.


	19. Chapter 18: Solitude

Chapter 18: Solitude

Lucy sat behind Pitch as their Night Mare glided through the early dawn clouds like an eel. She held her wrist close to her face, examining the ice charms. They clinked together in the wind like chimes, and they caught the dim light like crystals. She stared at the armband like it was Jack Frost himself. Without wanting to, she found herself reliving the moment she'd received it, a year and a half ago...

_She slipped the arm band on. Once it was around her wrist, the bangle tightened. It wasn't uncomfortable, but Lucy knew it wouldn't be coming off anytime soon._

_"I had a charm put on it." Jack explained, "It'll accommodate your wrist as you grow so it won't get too tight, and every time we do something new together, a new charm'll appear."_

_"Jack..." Lucy trapped her friend in a tight hug._

That copacetic image faded as a newer, much more bitter recollection appeared.

_ZAP!_

_The noise had barely died when Lucy felt a biting, icy solid trap her legs. The sudden stiffness in her legs made her collapse on her face. She was relieved the floor was carpeted, or that would've been a painful fall._

_Before she could try to get up, Lucy was pressed down by another body fueled by wrath. It didn't take a genius to guess who it was. She glanced up to see a pair of furious, cold eyes. The same eyes that used to make her feel so safe and cared for._

_"You little monster!" Jack's cold fist collided with her jaw, getting an anguished cry out of her. It was like getting struck by frozen cement. "You little demon! How DARE you hurt Molly!"_  
_Lucy's eyes filled with tears as the sprite attacked her. She wanted to tell herself she didn't care, but deep down, she knew she did. Jack had forgotten all about her; if he'd still remembered her, he would have jumped off her the second he saw her face._

_But no. It was all about Molly now, wasn't it?_

_Bitterness filled Lucy like venom. You can't trust the guardians, especially not the embodiment of fun. They lived forever while you grew up. The minute you were out of the playground, they forgot all about you and focused on new playmates._

_Lucy's pain vanished. Asperity took its place, and fast._

_Black sand burst out of the gourd tied to her side, nourished by her anger. Lucy watched as her former friend flew backwards, screaming his head off. He rammed into one of the stain glass windows, sending thousands of deadly shards showering down. The Easter Bunny pulled the Tooth Fairy and Molly out of the way right on time._

Lucy sighed and lowered her wrist, watching with half-interest as the cities passed by under her feet. The cool, early morning wind whipped at her hair, obscuring her face.

She felt good, on one hand. She'd defended herself against an enemy, and done so frightfully well. She'd evened out the score between her and Molly, too. Like Pitch said: eye for an eye, tooth for a tooth. Maybe next time, that foolish girl wouldn't go around shooting strangers. The fact that Pitch was proud of her made the event worthwhile.

But on the other hand...even though she told herself that Jack had caused her parents' deaths, for some reason, she couldn't bring herself to really hate him. She still remembered him as the boy who always put a smile on her face. He'd always been there to fill her days with fun. With one wave of his staff, he'd transformed the small town into a winter wonderland.

But it'd been that very staff, as well as the carelessness with which he'd wielded it, that had started all this.

_Enough already! Remember what Pitch said? You can't live in the past! Focus on the future. Besides, he doesn't even remember you anymore. Stop sniveling like a baby and grow up!  
_

Lucy shook her head furiously, even slapping herself lightly in the face. She remembered a second too late that she'd been punched there earlier - and rather hard - and cried out. Fresh spasms of pain coursed within the left side of her face. Pitch slowed down, glancing over his shoulder, "What happened?"  
"N-nothing," Lucy answered in a strained voice, "Just...my cheek hurts."

Pitch released all the air in his lungs, saying nothing. After over three hundred years of solitude, dealing with a young girl definitely needed some getting used to. While he was relatively accustomed to Lucy's needs (such as food, water, clothes, and a restroom), he hadn't anticipated wounds.  
Not only physical, but mental as well.  
Pitch could feel the melancholy and frustration oozing from her. Decidedly, seeing Frost had opened old wounds.

Pitch resisted the urge to slap his forehead. Great. How does he deal with this?

Suddenly, he caught sight of a small pharmacy. He turned around, "Lucy, we're going to land for a moment. Get something for your cheek, alright?"

Lucy nodded, "Thank you."

Pitch hesitated, then smiled a little, "You are welcome."

With that, he yelled, "Yaah!"  
In response, the Night Mare neighed. Lucy gasped and grabbed Pitch's cloak, her eyes wide with fright. She screamed with both terror and delight as the stallion flew down towards the ground. Pitch winced and stuck a finger in his ear.

Once they landed on the roof of the building next to the pharmacy, he turned to her, "Thank you. Be sure to fetch the hearing aid I now require as well."

Lucy blushed, looking away, "Sorry."

Pitch waved her apologizes away, "Be quick about it." He eyed the sky, which was now royal purple and tinged with pink. "The sun is coming."

Lucy nodded, remembering the effect the sun had on her mentor. "I won't be long. I promise."  
Pitch smiled, "That's my girl." He looked around for a moment, trying to figure out where they were on the map.  
After a few seconds, he nodded to himself, "We're in Detroit." He grimaced slightly, "Not exactly one of my favorite locations." He handed her a few dollar bills, "Here. This should do it."

Lucy frowned at the crumpled money sitting on her palm, "Where'd you get this?"

"I stole it from the cold, dead fingers of my victims." Pitch answered mockingly before getting serious, "I'm not quite as backwards as you think, child. Ever since your arrival, I have carried with me some currency in case you need something during our travels."

Lucy whistled, nodding and sliding off the Night Mare, "Got it. Be right back." Pitch nodded and watched her go down the ladder leading to the street. Once the little girl was out of sight, Pitch looked at the sky. He watched as the stars slowly faded, retreating from the upcoming sun. Only the moon was unwavered. It hung in the sky like an orb of icy energy, casting its pale luminescence on the world. Its beams were especially bright on the Nightmare King.

Pitch smirked, "Don't look at me like that, old friend. I'm doing what needs to be done. Like I once said, there will always be fear."

_'But does the child really deserve your fate?'_ The moon asked, sounding like a disappointed father, _'To be alone?'_

"She won't be alone." Pitch answered haughtily, "She has me."

_'You said it yourself, Kozmotis,'_ The moon answered, _'In only a handful of years, you will die. Who will she turn to then?'_

Pitch growled, but before he could answer, Lucy's voice rang out, "Pitch!"

"I'm here." The Boogeyman called back, tugging at the Night Mare's mane. It neighed and prepared to fly off.

Lucy climbed up the ladder with one hand, using the other to hold an ice pack against her cheek. To Pitch's surprise, she had two small candy bars sticking out of her belt.

"Should I even ask?" He arched a brow as his apprentice trotted towards him. Lucy grinned, "The lady was really nice. She gave me the ice pack for free and gave me a candy bar."

"Then why are there two?"

"I bought the other one for you." Lucy handed him the Snickers, "I figured we could snack on them while we ride home."

Uh-oh.

Pitch shook his head, "No, thank you."

Lucy's smile wavered, but she held out the other one, "Then...would you like the Butterfinger more?"

"No, thank you." Pitch repeated.

"Ah...okay." Lucy nodded and crammed the bar back in her belt. Pitch tried to ignore the wave of disappointment coming from her, but it was as difficult as avoiding meat at a slaughterhouse.  
That, and seeing her expression hurt more than it should have.

Pitch inwardly sighed. He was softening up too much.

"I..." He couldn't believe he was saying this, "I suppose I could..._try_ a piece."

Slowly, the joy returned to Lucy's face. She almost looked like a kid at Christmas. "R-really?" She grabbed the Snickers, unwrapped it, broke off a small, gooey piece, and held it out to Pitch.

The Nightmare King paused, then took a deep breath and put the candy in his mouth. He chewed and swallowed, clearly not adapted to eating stuff like this. Lucy watched, her eyes wide and expectant. After a second, Pitch nodded, "I like it."

Lucy beamed and climbed onto the Night Mare, but just as she was wrapping the rest of the bar up, Pitch jumped off. He rushed to the edge of the roof and dunked his head, making gagging noises. Lucy felt concern grip her as she descended from the Night Mare. She ran to her mentor's side, watching with wide eyes as Pitch vomited, his entire body shuddering.

When he finally stopped, his face looked even grayer than usual. He looked up to meet her eye. That was the only time Lucy had ever seen the all-powerful Nightmare King look so..._ashamed_.

Lucy felt like a fool for not seeing this sooner. He'd never once eaten with her, even though he often sat with her at mealtimes. She'd assumed he ate other things, or at different times. She'd guessed that, maybe, he simply didn't need food.

Now, she finally understood. Pitch didn't eat because he didn't require it; he never ate because he _couldn't_.

Pitch straightened, wiping his lips with the back of his hand. "I'm...sorry." He murmured after a brief pause.

Lucy did the only thing that felt right. She walked up to her mentor and gave him a loose but comforting hug. Pitch didn't return it; he remained immobile, staring at the child before him with unmasked surprise. He'd honestly expected her to be disgusted, or even offended that he'd vomited something she'd given him. Instead...she was simply accepting it.

The Nightmare King hugged her back, a bit awkwardly. A soft smile was planted on his face.

The embrace lasted just long enough; Lucy pulled away and gave him a reassuring smile, "C'mon. It'll be light soon."

"Yes. Let's go home." Pitch took her hand and led her back to the Night Mare, who was neighing impatiently.

* * *

As the golden beams slowly made their way into Lucy's room, Pitch stood over the small bed. He stared at the young girl curled up under the blanket, her russet hair spread out like a fan on the pillow. She was hugging a smaller cushion to her chest as though it were a teddy bear.

As Pitch looked at his sleeping apprentice, he couldn't stray from the Man in the Moon's question. Damn him! He had a way of getting into your brain like a poisonous mushroom.

But...what if he was _right?_ What if he _was_ damning Lucy to suffer the same fate he had? To spend centuries entirely alone, slowly growing angrier and more bitter?

Pitch scoffed and left the room, making the door vanish behind him. Tsar Lunar was just being his typical, goody-goody self. Pitch had selected Lucy for something very honorable; to keep fear and truth alive in this world. As grim as that might have sounded, what the guardians did was no better. They made kids believe that life was all toys and candy eggs, which only served to _crush_ them once they reached adulthood.

He'd done the right thing, choosing Lucy. Besides, she was happy with taking on his job when the time came.

Right?


	20. Chapter 19: All Hallow's Eve Part 1

**Sorry this one's short: didn't have much time to write. Hope you enjoy it all the same!  
**

Chapter 19: All Hallow's Eve Part 1

18-year-old Lucy had a quick break for food. Since time wasn't on her side and she wasn't particularly famished, she settled on an apple and a packet of chips. She crunched noisily as her hand continued to stain the diary pages black.

_More than a year passed without much happening. The guardians left us alone, which was a relief to the both of us. We didn't like seeing those blithering, too-happy fools into our lives. We just tried to carry on life as normally as possible._

_Just as we'd been doing before, we met up every evening. Before our nightly missions, we had breakfast (or I had, anyway) in the kitchen. Then, we'd spend an hour in the library. True to his word, Pitch taught me a dead language; Latin, to be exact. It was really hard, but really fascinating, too. Latin had such a sweet, melodic sound. It was such a shame it had died. But at least it lived on in at least three languages: Italian, Spanish, and French. Pitch gave me homework (which was a pain) and made me read whole passages out loud to him, and he made me start over whenever I made an error. I'll admit, it was tough. But in the end, it was worth it. I was able to read so many books that had been enigmatic to me until now._

_That year was peaceful, and memories of my old life were slowly fading. It didn't bother me, strangely enough. That life had belonged to Lucy Rivera, the timid bookworm._

_Now, I was Lucy Black, the Boogeyman's apprentice and a Nightmare Sand wielder. (Pitch didn't know I'd secretly taken his surname; it'd been totally inofficial and without documents, but it made me feel that much closer to my mentor.) I was happy with the life I was leading.  
_

_Until one day in October, when things changed. It was the stone tossed into the water, if you will._

* * *

"Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary,  
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,  
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,  
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door."

Lucy, now less than two months away from her thirteenth birthday, muttered 'The Raven' under her breath as she treaded through the sunlit streets. Her wavy hair, which reached her mid-back by now, danced in the cool wind. She tugged at a small, black wagon loaded with pumpkins she'd stolen from various pumpkin patches. Halloween was only a couple of weeks away, after all.

This was one of the few occasions Pitch allowed her to leave the Realm unsupervised. Since Halloween was the night dedicated to darkness and fear, it was the perfect time for the two of them to celebrate. After a long rest the day before, they'd spend the day carving jack-o-lanterns. And not just five or six. Oh, no. The mentor and apprentice carved _hundreds_ of them. Then, they left the jack-o-lanterns at sites were people had been murdered or died unexpectedly. As Pitch had explained, jack-o-lanterns actually symbolized lost souls that supposedly walked the Earth. By leaving one pumpkin at each location, they were giving the victim an offering of recognition and respect.  
Then, over a feast of pumpkin juice and enough candy to drive the Tooth Fairy mad, the two of them would fill the night with unexpected willies: a creaking floorboard here, a cold cackling there. Just enough to keep the fear present without turning the night of fun into a living nightmare.

Lucy kept her head bowed so that no one would see the ecstatic grin plastered on her face. Oh, what a night of fun it would be! She could hardly wait!

Continuing to quote 'The Raven', she scanned the small town for a particularly large shadow. Over the past year, she'd learned a thing or two about shadow travelling, though she'd made a lot of unintentional trips to China in the process.

Nothing. It was too early for proper shadows to form. She would have to wait another hour at least. Dammit! And she'd been looking forward to giving Pitch a wake-up call! At this rate, he'd be awake by the time she returned home.  
Oh, well. Nothing she could do about it, right? She just had to wait.

Sighing, she stopped at a park bench and sat down, her hands on her knees. The soft rustling of leaves and birds chirping filled the air as she got comfortable. After a couple of minutes, Lucy cracked a smile. This was...sort of a pleasant change.

The Realm was her one true home by now. As crazy as it might have sounded, she liked the dark serenity of the cave. While she still avoided the Night Mares' ranch like the plague, she'd still explored it well enough to hardly get lost anymore. Though Pitch liked to change the directions his tunnels led just for the fun of it. Once, Lucy had left her room to brush her teeth and wasted all morning trying to find her way back. But it was still the one place she felt she truly belonged in.

But it was still...what, nice? Familiar? Amicable to be in seated in a park in the late October afternoon. After two years and a half of darkness, the light was strong enough to make Lucy wear sunglasses. But she still liked sitting there, watching families and couples pass by, going about their lives. There were even a few kids running around in their Halloween costumes.  
Lucy smiled to herself. Those were the kids she liked. They enjoyed fear, and while they didn't exactly believe in the Boogeyman, their love for terror fueled Pitch like gas nourishes fire.

Speaking of kids, one was walking towards her now. Lucy could scarcely hide her surprise. He was taller than the others, a good four inches more than her (she was only 5'2), dressed as a skeleton. Through the holes of the mask, a pair of pale green eyes locked on hers. For some reason, Lucy's tongue formed a double knot.

The boy removed his mask, revealing a face with cheekbones that could be used as cutting stones. He had short, light brown hair and a twinkle in his eye that reminded Lucy of Jack.  
He gave her a dimpled smile, "Hey. I'm Chip."

Lucy said nothing, but nodded in understanding.

Chip seemed a bit surprised by this, but he continued nevertheless, "Uh, listen. Me and a few friends were joining up for Halloween. Y'know, kinda like a party. Wanna come?"

Lucy arched a brow, "Why would you invite me? You've never even seen me before."

"Well, yeah." Chip admitted, "But the thing is, the girls here aren't really into Halloween. They don't get that it's supposed to be scary, y'know?"

Lucy nodded. She'd lost count of the number of times she'd seen girls her age wearing fishnets and tanks on this holiday.

"But you seem to have spunk." Chip added, eyeing Lucy's outfit: black-and-white striped stockings and a short-sleeved black dress with a long-sleeved white shirt underneath. "So, I thought, y'know. Maybe you can help liven it up?"

Lucy's eyebrow disappeared in her hair. Suspicious as it might have seemed, she found herself bending towards accepting. The boy seemed honest enough. Besides, when would she get another chance like this? That's right, never. In a few years, she'd become the next Boogeyman (Boogeywoman in her case). She'd never be able to socialize again. Why not enjoy it now while she still could?

Finally, she nodded, "Okay. Count me in."

"Great!" Chip cheered, "I didn't catch your name, though."

"It's Lu-" She stopped. She couldn't give her name to some stranger. It could arouse suspicion. She needed an alias. Something totally different from 'Lucy'.

Finally, a name appeared in her mind.

"Melinda." She answered, "My name's Melinda."

Huh. Not bad. It meant 'sweet serpent'. Pitch would certainly approve of it.

"Cool name." Chip grinned. Lucy ignored the heat rising in her cheeks as she and the boy shook hands.

"See you on Halloween. Here?" Chip gestured to the bench. Lucy nodded, "Sure thing."

"Awesome." Chip winked at her, "See you soon." With that, he slipped his mask back on and left.

Lucy grinned inwardly, feeling almost like a girl on her first date. This was so exciting! She'd never spent Halloween with someone of her own age before. Even before meeting Pitch, she'd often spent Halloween with her parents watching horror movies. They'd never liked trick-or-treating, so she simply hadn't joined in. This was going to be unforgettable.

* * *

_Little did I know_, Lucy wrote a little over five years later, _of how right I actually was._


	21. Chapter 20: All Hallow's Eve Part 2

Chapter 20: All Hallow's Eve Part 2

_I'll admit it, I was freaking thrilled. I might have had absolutely zero experience with boys (unless one counted Jack, but I'd never considered him anything more than a close friend), but Chip was _**hot**_. I know it sounds stupid, but what thirteen-year-old girl **hasn't** had a crush? Besides, this was Halloween we were talking about. Not only was I going to go outside, but it was going to be on my favorite holiday! And I was even meeting new people! After only having Pitch for company for so long, it felt like my birthday, Christmas, and Easter all rolled into one day. It was enough to send me in ecstacy.  
_

_Once I got over my initial excited state, though, I remembered a problem I hadn't fully pondered over yet.  
_

_Pitch._

* * *

"No. Absolutely not." Pitch didn't even look up from _'Dracula'_ as he answered.

"What?" Lucy's jaw dropped. She hadn't been naive enough to think that her mentor would immediately agree, but she hadn't expected him to flat-out turn her down, either. At least not without hearing what she had to say first.

"Lucy, running off with perfect strangers is not only childish but dangerous." Pitch turned the page of his novel, "For all you know, he could be a drug addict or a rapist."

Lucy blinked, then smiled softly. Even though he pretended to be tough and uncaring, Pitch really did concern himself for her well-being. The realization melted her annoyance towards her mentor. She reached out and placed a hand on his arm, "Pitch, I have Nightmare Sand now. If anything happens, I can send that guy flying into the next state."

Now, Pitch _did_ look up. Lucy pulled away, flinching at the coldness in his gold eyes. "Have I taught you nothing? Nightmare sand is to be used against immortals only. The only time you may use it against a mortal is to give them nightmares."

Lucy's eyes widened. She'd forgotten about that detail, but now that Pitch was mentioning it, she recalled reading something about that. She blushed and played with the hem of her shirt, "I-I'm sorry, sir. I forgot. But-"

"No 'buts'." In one smooth motion, Pitch rose from his bed and towered over his apprentice. He didn't look like the almost paternal figure to her at the moment. He looked the way children saw him: a cold, dark monster. His eyes bore into hers, "Have you forgotten the reason you are here? I need someone to carry on my work, and you fit the bill." His voice rose with every word, "But how can you continue my legacy if you use Nightmare Sand against humans? You'll put us all in jeapordy!"

"I'm not talking about fighting anyone!" Lucy yelled in response, catching Pitch by surprise, "I just want to spend one night with kids of my own age! Is that _so_ unreasonable?!"

"Yes it is!" Pitch shouted, "What's wrong with the Halloweens we've spent together, may I ask?"  
"Nothing!" Lucy answered hotly, "I love spending Halloween with you; you know that! But this could be my last chance!"

"To do what?" Pitch laughed coldly, "To walk straight into a trap?" He waved at the door, "**_Well then go!_**"

His shouts echoed through the Realm, anger filling the air like smog. Lucy stared at him with wide eyes, her brow furrowed. As his wave of rage began to fade, Pitch felt his apprentice's emotions the same way a human feels a draft. And just like a draft, these emotions were just as unwelcomed.

Disappointment. Frustration. Shock. Anger.

And hurt. Lots of it.

Lucy bolted out of the room, her head lowered. Pitch heard a door slam shut a few minutes later. He sighed and crashed on his bed, his head in his hands. Why did that stupid boy have to talk to his little light? Everything had been going so nicely. Halloween was the highlight of the year for Pitch; that and Lucy's birthday, when he'd taken the liberty of taking her to places she'd dreamed of going to. They should have been making jack-o-lanterns and discussing the origins of Halloween, not refusing to talk to each other.

Lucy...why did this matter to her so much? She didn't even know this boy. Who cared if he asked her to attend his little shindig? To that boy, she was meaningless; just another girl he'd find in the street.  
To Pitch, on the other hand...Lucy was the only one who knew what was hiding under the black cloak and toothy grin. She didn't just treat him like a mentor; the way she treated him was sort of like...the way a child would treat a father. Was that why he was acting like a stern father?

Pitch shook his head to clear it of such nonsensical ideas. What was _happening_ to him? Sure, Lucy's welfare was important to him, but why wouldn't it be? She was barely in her teens yet; as such, he had to act as her caretaker as well. Besides, he might have been the King of Nightmares, but he wasn't heartless enough to ignore a child's basic needs. Especially if that child had chosen to come here with him.

He sighed again. "What am I going to do?"

_'You're afraid, aren't you?'_ A voice whispered in the Boogeyman's ear, _'You're afraid that, if you let her go, she will choose to remain with humans.'_

Pitch scowled and glared at the milky beams streaming in from his window. Dammit. He'd been so absorbed in his novel, he'd completely lost track of time. That blasted MiM was back to lecture him once again.

"Of course not." He growled, "You must be going senile, Tsar."

_'And yet, you will not let her leave the Realm.'_

"Because it's a dangerous world out there."

_'Or,'_ Tsar countered, _'You're afraid of losing your family again.'_

"Be silent!" Pitch rose again, ripping his black curtains aside. He glared at the moon with a hateful look plastered on his face, "Don't meddle in other people's lives, you fool!"

A soft breeze, almost as though the moon were sighing, _'Very well. But think about it: if you truly care for Lucy, won't you trust her in coming back to you?'_

Those were the last words Tsar Lunar uttered. Pitch blinked, then growled and shoved the curtains back into place, shutting out every beam of light. He leaned against the wall, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

What was he going to do? While he never would have admitted it, not even with a gun to his temple, Pitch **_did_** care. More than he should have. Lucy was the closest thing to a family he'd had in centuries. He didn't want to risk losing her.

After a moment's hesitation, he closed his eyes and reached out to Lucy. Or rather, he felt the Realm for her presence.

Since he'd grown used to her ubiety (and she was the only other person in the Realm), it was fairly easy for him to find her. She was locked in her room just a few halls away, and the emotions oozing from her were detectable even from here. He simply read her sentiments as one would read a book.

Lucy was frustrated and angry at Pitch for being so illogical and overprotective, but at the same time, she felt guilty for feeling this way. She was afraid she'd hurt his feelings and ruined Halloween for the both of them.

Pitch sighed and rubbed his forehead. Human emotion. The single most complicated thing in the universe. It was even more complex for him, one who'd spent centuries in total isolation.  
He really had made a mess, hadn't he?

Well, then it looked like he had to fix it. He couldn't just leave things the way they were. The longer he waited, the worse the problem would become. In all his years, this was something he'd learned far too well.

The only question was...how?

A faint neighing echoed through the Realm.

Pitch smiled.

* * *

Lucy sighed as she sat on the windowpane, kicking her legs in the air. Right now, she was looking at the Red Sea, but even as she watched tourists effortlessly float in the water, her problems kept rearing their ugly heads.

Why had she made such a big deal out of it? She didn't even know Chip, or the town she'd happened to meet him in. It had all been a complete coincedence. She should've just brushed it off and moved on.

But why hadn't she?

The answer was simple, but that didn't make it pleasant.

Lucy knew what she'd gotten herself into. Being the bringer of nightmares wasn't likely to win her many friends. Since she had time before that happened to her, she just wanted to enjoy socialization while she could. Stupid as it might have sounded, she wanted to know how it felt to be normal again - even if for just a few hours.

But was this little desire worth upsetting Pitch? No, it wasn't. He'd saved her. He'd taken her under his wing, taught her so much, and was ready to pass his job onto her when the time came. And how did she repay him? By whining about a party. How childish.

Lucy rubbed her face with her hands and got ready to reenter her room.

As she swung one thin leg back into the room, her door opened on its own. Pitch walked in, but when he saw her, his eyes widened. "Lucy-"

She cracked a smile, "Relax, Pitch." She slid back into the room with eel-like ease, "I'm not gonna jump."

Pitch's mouth twitched, but he refused to smile. "Anyway, I have considered this...issue for a while now, and while I disagree with you attending a party with strangers-"  
"Pitch, I'm really sorry." Lucy cut him off, "I shouldn't have said anything. I'm sorry."

Pitch gave her a look, "Are you going to let me finish or not?"

Lucy blushed, "Right. Sorry, go on."

Pitch picked up where he left off, "While I disagree, I still think that you should have a little fun."

Lucy's eyes widened. Was he...?

"Which is why..."

Really...?

"I grant you permission to go." Pitch finished, sounding like the words had a bitter flavor. Lucy, however, exploded. Pitch found himself covering his ears as his apprentice trapped him in a bone-crushing hug.  
"Thankyouthankyouthankyou!"

Pitch smirked and peeled her off him, keeping his hands on her shoulders, "Before you celebrate, I must inform you that there's a catch."

Lucy's smile vanished. "What do I have to do?"

"Well..." Pitch glanced at her doorway with a knowing smile on his thin face. Almost fearfully, Lucy followed his eyes.

A Night Mare stood there, ready to ride.

Lucy paled. She took several steps backwards as her breathing doubled. Her blood roared in her ears. Her fear slammed into Pitch like a cement wall.  
"Oh, no!" She snapped, "I am not gonna-"

"No ride, no party." Pitch countered, using a tone that indicated that it was her loss, not his. "If you finally get over this absurd fear of yours and ride with Nyx _once_, I promise you that you will be permitted to go."

Lucy sighed in exasperation and cradled her head in her hands. What other choice did she have? She wanted to attend that festivity, but the idea of going near a horse made her knees turn to Jell-O. Never mind riding one! And a Night Mare, no less!

But Pitch was looking at her with that expression. It was the type of expression he gave her when he quizzed her on Black Sand or asked her to read to him in Latin. It was a look that encouraged her to perform well, and Lucy didn't want to disappoint him.  
Besides, she was going to own these Night Mares someday. Might as well get over it now that Pitch was around to help her, rather than wait to deal with it on her own, right?

Finally, she asked, "When do we start?"

* * *

Lucy was gripping Nyx's mane so tightly, the nightmare stallion was shifting with discomfort. Pitch rolled his eyes, an amused smirk on his face, "Are you going to ride her or rip her mane out?"  
Lucy whined, "Don't mock me. I'm scared out of my mind."  
"Yes, I know." Pitch answered calmly.  
Lucy took a moment to glare at her mentor before he began to speak. He straightened his back and said, "Keep a good grip on her mane; not too loose, but not too tight, either. Loosen it up a little. Yes, that's the way."

Lucy relaxed her grip a little. Pitch nodded approvingly before continuing, "You don't need to tell her where to go. Merely think it." He tapped his forehead for emphasis, "And when you want to stop, imagine landing. She will handle the rest. Understand?"

Lucy swallowed hard and nodded nervously. The instructions were easy, sure, but carrying them out would be another story.

Pitch nodded, "Now, then. You go first." He slapped Lucy's Night Mare; the horse neighed and edged closer to the edge of the stones. Lucy panicked, "W-w-wait! I can't do this!"  
Pitch grinned, thoroughly enjoying himself now, "Of course you can."

"No, I can't! Really!"

"It's not the fall that frightens you." Pitch cooed reassuringly. Lucy, however, was beyond advocacy. "The hell it's not!" She snapped.

"You're just afraid you won't be able to control Nyx on time," Pitch explained, trying not to smile as he did, "and you will turn up at that party as an _omelette_."

"No, I'm just scared I won't control her on time!" Lucy retorted. Pitch smirked again before turning to his apprentice's horse, "Nyx, forward."

"No! No! GAAAAAAAH!" Lucy's screams boomed through the Realm as her horse leapt from the cliff, sending them both tumbling down.

Pitch watched them go with an amused grin, "I haven't had this much fun in ages." With that, he kicked his horse sharply in the ribs, "Yaah!"

His horse, Kuro, dipped into the darkness below. Pitch relished in the cold air tousling his hair and whistling in his ears. Before too long, he caught sight of Lucy and Nyx. The stallion looked calm, like everything was under control.  
Lucy, on the other hand, was clutching the horse's neck like a life preserver. All the color had drained from her face, and her eyes threatened to pop out of her skull.

Pitch grinned like a fox, "Enjoying yourself, dear?"

"I hate you with all my heart!" Lucy yelled back. Pitch, however, took no offence to it as he hollered, "We've reached the red zone. Tell her to go up." Without waiting for Lucy to complain, he and Kuro glided into the air.

Lucy watched her mentor go miserably. Great, just perfect! She was going to be killed in this strange place on a horse!

Nyx, sensing the danger, whinnied and jerked from side to side. The sudden movements made Lucy yelp and almost lose balance. She had to clutch onto Nyx's mane to keep from falling off. When Nyx had a particularly violent spasm, Lucy lost it.  
"JUST FLY STRAIGHT ALREADY!" She yelled.

To her amazement, Nyx followed her orders. Before Lucy could blink, the Night Mare flew out of the pit and higher into the air. Catching her breath, the girl tucked her russet hair behind her ears. She was...she was doing it! She was flying! After two years and a half of avoiding the ranch like the plague, she was finally flying.

"Yeah...yeah, good!" She patted Nyx's neck, "Now, go to the left!"

Nyx obeyed, glissading through the air like a seagull. Lucy's eyes were wide, but with excitement this time. She stared at the view with a dropped jaw. This was beyond breathtaking. The late afternoon sun painted the rocks a strong gold color, and the iron bird cages swung softly in the breeze. The Realm looked so much more...mystical from way up here. Maybe that was why Pitch loved flying so much?

"Not so terrible, now was it?"

Lucy grinned and turned in the direction of the voice. Pitch was smiling at her like a proud father, and that completely razed the negative emotions she'd had earlier.

* * *

After an hour and three quarters of flying, Lucy felt she was about to collapse. Which she did, in fact; Pitch had to carry her back to her room. Lucy didn't know what to feel happier about: the fact that she'd finally defeated her fear, or that Pitch wasn't agree with her anymore.

"Well done, my dear." Pitch cooed as he placed her on the bed, "I am quite proud of you."  
"You are?" Lucy asked hopefully.  
"Yes." Pitch nodded, looking at her with warm gold eyes. He pushed a lock out of her eyes before straightening up. "Rest now. You've earned it."

As he turned to leave, though, he felt a small hand grab his wrist, "W-wait."

He turned back to Lucy in surprise, "Is something wrong?"

"No, but..." Lucy chewed on her lip as she continued, "I wanna tell you why I was afraid of horses. If you wanna know."

Pitch blinked in surprise and fully turned so that he was facing her. He did want to know, but he'd never asked out of respect. He didn't see why she had to tell him something so personal, especially since she'd already been upset today.

He knelt down, "Lucy, you do not have to tell me if-"

"I'm sure." Lucy nodded, "You helped me; seems only fair, right?"

Pitch was silent for a minute. Then, he sighed and sat down next to her, silently allowing her to begin the tale.

For a few minutes, though, Lucy didn't speak. She just played with her hair or dress, a pensive look clouding her eyes. Pitch was about to get up and leave when she began, "Back when I was four, my mom had a love for horseback riding. She'd go to a ranch every single Sunday, and Dad and I had to wait for her until five thirty. It took her an extra hour just to clean them up and everything."

Pitch blinked, saying nothing.

"But one day, there was a fire." Lucy spoke intimately, like she'd never spoken of this before, "I don't know how it happened. Dad smoked; maybe he didn't put one out well. Or maybe one of the other riders just got careless. I don't know. All I know was that the whole ranch was on fire." She shivered, "The horses were still inside, and since we'd been the first to arrive, no one was around to help them."

"What did you do?" Pitch asked softly.

"Dad called the fire fighters," Lucy continued, "And Mom just started crying. I don't know, I...I couldn't see her like that. I couldn't see her so upset. So I...ran towards the burning ranch."

Pitch's eyebrows shot up.

"I managed to open the door for one of them, but my hands got burned. But that was nothing compared to what happened next." Lucy squeezed her eyes shut at the memory, "The horse was terrified. All of them were. So once it realized the door was open, it burst out. I remember being so scared, seeing this huge animal tower over me..." She waved her hand, indicating that she was skipping some details, "Long story short, that horse hurt me pretty bad. I had three broken ribs. Considering how big it was - and how big **_I_** was - it's a miracle I wasn't killed." Lucy shivered despite the warm air, "I've avoided horses ever since."

Pitch nodded, "I am...sorry. Maybe I did wrong in forcing you to confront your fears."

"I would've had to face them anyway, right?" Lucy asked with a weak smile, "If I gotta be here alone one day, I have to know how to handle the Night Mares."

"True." Pitch took a deep breath and stood up, "Now, come on. Get some sleep."

"Okay." Lucy yawned as Pitch tucked her in, pulling the black satin blanket over her. "You were very brave, you know." He whispered, "See you tomorrow evening."

"G'night, Dad."

Pitch froze in the act of walking to the door. For a minute, he wondered if he'd imagined it. Slowly, he turned back to the child. She was already asleep, a serene smile on her heart-shaped face.  
Gradually, a soft smile found its way on Pitch's face. He felt...different, somehow. Less bitter and lonely. It was different...but in a good way.

He bent down and planted a gentle kiss on the top Lucy's head, "Goodnight, sweetheart."  
With that, he melted into the shadows, leaving his newly-adopted daughter to sleep.


	22. Chapter 21: All Hallow's Eve Part 3

Chapter 21: All Hallow's Eve Part 3

Pitch couldn't wipe that stupid smile off his face no matter how much he tried. He _definitely_ tried; he imagined the years of bitterness and solitude he'd had to endure, but the recollections only served to make him happier that it was over. A small part of him kept lecturing him about it. For God's sake, he was the blasted Boogeyman! The King of Nightmares! He didn't _smile!_

But he was. He was genuinely and truly grinning like the jack-o-lanterns his Fearlings were currently carving. One thought kept swirling around in his mind like a hurricane:

_'She called me Dad.'_

Pitch found it nearly impossible to crush this fluffy, warm sentiment now blooming in his chest like a flower. He wanted to tell himself that this wasn't a big deal, that he had more important things to focus on. But his mind kept trailing back to the girl sleeping several rooms away; as he did, waves of affection as strong as iron surged through him. It felt so alien to him after years of feeling nothing but resentment.  
But it was still...nice.  
No, more than nice. It was...wonderful.

A child saw him - the _Boogeyman!_ - as a father! It seemed unthinkable. If someone had told him four or five years ago that this would happen, he would have told them to check into the looney bin.

Subconsciously, Pitch found himself thinking back on what he'd told Jack Frost in Antartica. At the time, he'd tried to get the boy on his side. With his impressive powers over winter, Jack would've assured Pitch's victory against the guardians. For the first time in centuries, Pitch had opened up to another being. Even if only for a few minutes, he'd removed the mask he always wore. He'd actually told the little runt of what he'd had to endure for three centuries.

_"I do know what it's like to be cast out, to not be believed in__!"_

_"To long for...a family."  
_

The guardians surely thought he'd made it up to entice the winter spirit to the dark side. After all, he was the bad guy, the villain. He took pleasure in turning children's dreams into nightmares and wanted to 'take over the world'.  
That's what they thought. That's all he'd ever shown them. They'd never even considered the possibility that Pitch had grown lonely, hiding under dusty beds and hearing parents tell their children that he didn't exist.

But now, at long last, his loneliness was finally demolished.

* * *

Lucy slept through the remaining night and the following day. Apparently, horseback riding - as well as all the training - had worn her out. More than once, Pitch checked up on the child to make sure she had everything she needed. He also placed a hand on her forehead to see if she was ill. Nope; just in need of rest.

Finally, as the bright gold sun sank into the crimson sky, Lucy finally opened her eyes.

"Welcome back, Sleeping Beauty."

Lucy yelped and fell out of the bed. Dark chuckling rippled through the air, "If the actual princess had awoken like that, the fairy tale would have been much more amusing."

Lucy smirked and blew some russet locks from her eyes, "Ha, ha. Very funny, Dad."

_'Again with that word,'_ Pitch thought to himself happily, though he refused to show it. _'So it _hadn't_ been a slip of tongue. She **meant** it.'_

The girl noticed something in her mentor's eyes - a hint of emotion - and immediately felt anxiety wash over her. Pitch didn't put his feelings on display very often. Something must have happened. Something with the guardians? Lucy hoped not.

"Are you okay?" She asked as she stood up.

"Of course." Pitch looked at her almost teasingly, "Whatever made you think otherwise?"

"Well, I...never mind." Lucy paused before speaking again, "Um, Dad, I was wondering if you could...help me with something."

Pitch's eyebrow went up.

"Since I'm going to the party tomorrow," Lucy's voice bubbled with excitement, "I'm gonna need a costume. And a great one, too. So I was hoping that you'd...y'know, help me decide."

Pitch grinned. Helping a preteen girl select an outfit terrifying enough to stun anyone she meets? Oh, yes. This was going to be fun.

He placed a hand on her shoulder, "It will be a pleasure, child."

* * *

It turned out to be a pleasure for Pitch alright. He hardly had to do a thing. For the rest of the day, he merely sat in his favorite chair, using his Nightmare Sand to make images. Meanwhile, Lucy had to try on all seven of the different costumes she'd prepared for Halloween. Yes, she'd picked seven: she'd been unable to decide what she wanted to be, so she had selected all the possibilities.

All Pitch had to do was state what he thought of each look. Lucy was the one who had to run all the way to her room, change, then race back to the throne room.

He was doubtlessly having a blast at criticizing her costumes.

When Lucy showed up dressed like a scarecrow, Pitch had snapped his fingers and set her torn shirt and pants up in flames.

When she appeared before him as a witch, he began to gag.

A ghost? The sheets 'accidentally' flew off her and disappeared into the ceiling shadows.

A ghoul? The mask melted off her face like pudding.

"Urgh!" Lucy stomped her foot as the seventh costume - a vampire - gave her mentor a near-fatal laughing fit, "That was my last card! I tried _everything!_ What do I have to do, dammit?!"

Pitch managed to pull himself together a good two minutes later. Lucy crossed her arms as her mentor wiped his eyes. "Lucy, my little light," He managed between cackles, "Your costumes lack originality. Do you have any idea how many vampires, ghouls, and ghosts I've come across in my lifetime? Thousands. You must create a costume of your own: something that will mark you different from the others."

"And I don't suppose you'd just give it to me?" Lucy asked half-hopefully.

Pitch smirked and ran a hand through his black hair, "Where would the fun in that be?"

Lucy sighed, "Right. I'll see what I can do." She disappeared into the shadows, willing them to take her to the library.

Forty minutes later, Lucy was sitting on the black marble floor, sixteen different books opened before her. She'd picked out every accessible novel on Halloween and hellish creatures, and while she found demons, griffins, and gremlins rather interesting, they were too complex. There was no way she could whip up a costume like these. It called for materials and time; two things she lacking at the moment.

Lucy sighed and pushed the book away from her lap, pinching the bridge of her nose. This was perfect. Halloween was less than twenty-four hours away, and she didn't even have an idea! She was going to look like such a birdbrain, being the only one without a costume. Oh, God. Her first Halloween party, and she was going to ruin it. What would Chip think?

Sighing again, she tucked some hair behind her ear and gathered the books in her arms. As she put them back into place, she noticed a book with a serpent on the spine.  
She stopped. For a second, she wondered if she should look at it or not. Surely, it was a book on reptiles and amphibians. Those hardly counted as Halloween creatures, right? It would just be a waste of time.  
Still, she _was_ pretty desperate.

Releasing all the air from her lungs, Lucy leaned against the wall and plucked the book from the shelf. She opened it to the first page.

_Common Kingsnakes_

By David Perlowin

She flipped through several pages, only half-reading the information. There were a couple of pictures, but nothing incredible. If possible, her hopes went even further down the drain. Just as she was about to put it back, though, Lucy came across a picture of an emerald boa constrictor, staring at her with beady eyes.

Her jaw dropped. Now _this_ was creepy. In the picture, the snake was coiled around a tree branch, which brought out its four-meter-long body. Its scales shone brightly in the sunlight, and its eyes betrayed no human emotion. Its stare inspired fear and awe.

_Huh_, Lucy thought, _I wonder..._

She collected all the books on snakes she could and laid them on the table.

* * *

"Done!" Lucy's enthusiastic voice boomed through the Realm, shattering the silence entirely.

Pitch smirked, not even bothering to look up from the onyx sand dancing in his palms, "What is it this time? A pumpkin? An alien?"

"Turn around and see!" Lucy snickered. Pitch's eyebrows climbed up his forehead. The boost of confidence was new. Clearly, she thought she'd found something good.

He'd be the judge of that. Pitch turned around - and felt his jaw drop.

Where he'd expected to see Lucy stood a short but threatening figure. It was clad from head to toe in a bodysuit made from leather patterned to look just like a dark gray snake's scales. The figure wore a familiar black cloak that rippled in the air like inky water. The person had even slipped on thick leather gloves with claws at the end.  
But the best part was the mask, which she was holding to her face: it was designed to look exactly like a snake's skull, so much so that Pitch almost mistook it for the real thing. It covered the upper part of her face, leaving only her chin, mouth, and jawline exposed.

All in all, his daughter looked frighteningly epic.

Lucy turned the mask so that it covered only half of her face. She cracked a smile and emitted a hiss-like noise, "**_Kssh_**."

Pitch slowly stood up, his eyes wide. For a few minutes, he merely stared at the child with unmasked surprise. Lucy enjoyed being in the spotlight - for about a minute. Then, she placed the mask on the top of her head. She shifted under her mentor's gaze, "So...do you like it?"

"Lucy..." Pitch held a hand out.

After a second's debate, Lucy took it. Before she could blink, she was pulled into a warm hug. She stood in Pitch's arms, shock written all over her face. While she and Pitch had shared a good number of hugs during her time here, she'd always been the one to make them. Pitch had never embraced her first.

It felt...convival to be in his arms, like he would protect her from danger. Lucy found herself returning the hug, wrapping her arms around his chest. Pitch placed a hand on the back of her head, "That's my girl. You'll be unforgettable, I know it."

Lucy beamed, "Do you mean it?"

"Yes." Pitch pulled away, his hands remaining on her shoulders, "You said you gave them a false name. Melinda. It means 'sweet serpent', and with this ensemble," He placed the mask over her face, "You will live up to that name."

Lucy grinned, at a loss for words. When she happened to glance at the sky, though, she paled.

Pitch understood. He whirled her around so that she was facing the door, "Run along. Have fun."

Lucy nodded and ran off, vanishing in the shadows.

Pitch watched her go with a mixture of sadness and peace. This was going to be a lonely Halloween for him, but at least he knew that his little light was having a good time.

_Crack!_

The Nightmare King frowned and searched the room for the noise. Where had that come from? He'd never heard it before, even amongst all these stones.

_C-c-crack!_

Pitch winced and rubbed his hand...and stopped. Very slowly, he brought his hand to the light, giving him a better view. What he saw was enough to make his blood run cold.

His hand had several small cracks in it, like a porcelain doll. Tentatively, he brought a finger to one of the cracks...and made a small portion of his palm fall off. Pitch actually took a shocked step back, his eyes wide. For a few minutes, he was befuddled beyond words, but then, understanding struck him like a lightning bolt. His stomach felt as though he'd swallowed lead.

His time was beginning to run out.


	23. Chapter 22: All Hallow's Eve Final Part

**Note: Rather than being referred to as 'Lucy', my OC will go by the name of 'Melinda' for the majority of the chapter. Just to avoid confusion;) Enjoy!**

Chapter 21: All Hallow's Eve Final Part

"How. Much. Longer?!" Lauren Shaw snapped in exasperation, an angry look cemented on her pale, plump face.  
"Hey, you know how things are." Samantha Withington, her lapdog, countered soothingly, "Nobody's really into Halloween here, so finding jack-o-lanterns are a lot harder."

"Still!" Lauren barked, "We sent him to get the damn pumpkins _at nightfall_. That was hours ago!"  
Samantha scoffed, "Maybe if we'd _all_ gone, we'd be done by now."

"Don't start with me." Lauren growled, "I had to get my costume ready. Do you have any idea how long _this_ took me?" She twirled around to model her wardrobe. She'd decided to dress like the Red Queen from _'Alice in Wonderland'_, complete with a crimson sceptor and lipstick. Samantha rolled her eyes, saying nothing.

Finally, a faint railing noise filled the air, like metal scraping against concrete. Both girls turned to see a skeleton rushing towards them, pushing a shopping cart filled with small, round objects. When it reached the pair, it stopped and croaked, "Trick 'r treat."

"Nice to know you didn't slack off." Lauren muttered. When she peered inside the cart, however, the little joy she'd felt vanished. There were only three jack-o-lanterns inside, and one was plastic!

She arched a brow, "Is this the best you could do?"

"Sorry," The skeleton pulled up his mask, revealing a face with shapr cheekbones, "I did the best that I could. Some asshole went up and down the street smashing all of them."

Lauren sighed, "Great."

"Hey, we have _three_," Chip stated, "Isn't this enough?"

Lauren paused, thinking for a moment. Finally, she answered, "Almost. We need two more."  
"So, where's that freak you told us about?" Samantha asked, her arms folded.

"I don't know." Chip glanced at the sky, "I told her where we'd be."

"She'd better not wuss out." Lauren said in a warning tone, "It took me hours to put it all together."

Suddenly, the tree above their heads rustled loudly. Frowning, the three teenagers looked up to see what looked like a snake person hang upside down from one of the branches.  
"Happy Samhain!" She shouted in a girlish voice.

The trio screamed, Samantha grabbing Lauren's arm, "It's a monster!"

The figure crowed, obviously amused by Samantha's words. "I'm not a monster!"

It took a second for Chip to recognize the voice. His surprise must've shown on his face, for the figure grinned, "_**Kssh**_. Hey, Chip."  
Samantha and Lauren looked at their friend with arched brows and dropped jaws.

The figure jumped down, landing on her feet with a solid _thump_. Samantha had to admit, that costume beat Lauren's by a landslide. The girl was wearing a bodysuit patterned with dark gray scales, with a ripped black cape and gloves supplied with sharp claws. The mask, which looked much like a snake's skull, covered most of the girl's face.  
The girl pulled the mask away from her face, which was heart-shaped and reasonably pretty. Her large chestnut eyes glimmered mischievously, "Hello. My name is Melinda Black. At your service." She gave the two girls a mocking little bow, which only resulted in making Lauren's face scarlet.

This was gonna be fun.

"So, where's the party?" Melinda asked, pointing to the tree branches, "I hope you don't mind; I brought some jack-o-lanterns from home."

Three pairs of eyes went from her to the branches. Chip gawked; this had to be the most amazing thing he'd ever seen.

Staring back at them were at least a dozen jack-o-lanterns, glowing leers on their faces. These were without a doubt the most gorgeous, disturbing pumpkin lanterns this town had ever seen. Many of the pumpkins vaunted scenes that made the trio's stomachs tighten. One pumpkin showed a tree: on one side was a little girl on a swing, while the other side had a man being hanged. Another showed a woman being dragged into the ground by rotting hands. Another blazoned a masked figure holding a woman's decapitated head by the long hair. The pumpkins with faces grinned at the teenagers mischievously, like they knew some delicious, dark secret.

Melinda tilted her head at the three shocked faces, "Don't you like them?"

"Uh - yeah, of course we do!" Chip assured her, "It's - awesome."

"Did you carve all those yourself?" Samantha asked in spite of herself.

"Oh, no. I only carved a few. My dad helped me out a lot." Melinda answered, smiling at the mention of her dad.

Lauren arched a brow but nodded nevertheless, "Whatever. We're almost late. Besides, we only need two of those anyway."

"Really?" Melinda asked in a puzzled voice, "Why?"

Now, Lauren smiled. Or at least, she tried to. Frankly, Melinda thought that the girl wasn't very good at it: even though her lips pulled away from her perfect white teeth, the smile didn't reach her eyes.  
"Since you're new in town, I'll explain it to you. While the little kids go trick or treating, the older kids - like us - do cooler stuff." She used the same tone one might used with a foreigner or idiot, and it made Melinda's blood boil.  
Melinda asked, "Oh? Like shoot up on heroin?"

Samantha's jaw dropped. Wow, this girl had guts! Lauren Shaw was the queen of the school. If you crossed her, she could turn the whole school (or at least a good chunk of it) against her. She was unquestionably the prettiest girl in school, too, and that made her much more dangerous. She knew the power of her own beauty.  
The fact that this strange girl was mocking her was enough to make the school papers.

Lauren looked like she wanted to smack Melinda, but she smiled thinly, "No. We go to haunted places. Houses, graveyards, stuff like that."

"Oh, cool." Now, Melinda was interested. Chip almost groaned out loud. He almost reached out and pulled her away, but it was too late. Melinda was asking, "Where are we going? A slaughterhouse?"  
"No." Lauren answered, "It's actually on the outskirts of the town next door, Burgess. Ever heard of it?"

Melinda froze. She hadn't visited Burgess since Molly had shot her in the shoulder around a year ago. Frankly, she'd done everything she could to avoid the town of her birth. It was filled with memories of her old life, and those recollections were best left forgotten. Besides, she'd always been a bit afraid of running into Jamie or Jack.  
But the _outskirts_ of it...what harm could that do? Jack couldn't be up and about in October. He'd come to Burgess by November at least, and by then she'd be back underground.

She nodded, "Yeah, I've heard of it. And what do you need the pumpkins for?"

"I can't tell you right now, silly." Lauren tapped Melinda's nose, "It would ruin the surprise."

"Oh," Melinda murmured as the Red Queen began to lead the way, "we wouldn't want that, now would we?"

* * *

The walk took far, far longer than Melinda had anticipated. She was fairly at ease for the first few hundred meters, when the town lights became less and less common. After all, she'd lived with the King of Nightmares for nearly three years now. She luxuriated in the darkness, the inky abyss that hide her from the guardians. The shadiness felt as comforting and familiar to her as a blanket would feel to an infant.

But as the group ventured farther and farther from town, Melinda began to grow uneasy. In the place of homes and street lamps were trees with branches that reached out to them. Every now and then, an owl hooted in the air. Melinda didn't mind the isolation, but not knowing her destination was starting to make her a little nervous.

Samantha spoke up for the first time since they left town, "You must really like Halloween."

"You mean Samhain?"

Samantha frowned, her crystal eyes clouded with confusion, "What?"

Melinda grinned. Pitch would be so proud if he'd been a witness. Time to put her mentor's history lessons to good use.

"Samhain, a.k.a. Halloween," She began, "was the holiday predating Christianity. It was celebrated on the one night between autumn and winter, when the barrier between the living and the dead was at its thinnest." She grinned, "And it often involved rituals of human sacrifice to assure a good year of harvest."

Samantha didn't say anything, but her face had gone white as milk.

Melinda internally smirked. She'd scared someone with mere facts! Oh, wait until Pitch hears about this!  
After remaining silent for a couple of minutes, she added, "I like your hair. It's very...pale."  
Indeed, Samatha flicked her pale blonde hair from her eyes and walked a few steps ahead of Melinda.

The girl smirked and continued to pull the wagon loaded with jack-o-lanterns.

Finally, when everyone's feet were screaming for mercy, the group reached their destination. To put it bluntly, it was nothing like Melinda had been expecting. She felt almost angry, being forced to walk for such a long time just to stand before...

"...A swamp." Chip stated as he peered down below, clearly umimpressed, "Great way to celebrate Halloween, Lauren."

"What're we doing here?" Samantha whined more than asked.

"To pay our respects to the dead." Lauren replied, flipping a black lock from her face. Samantha's eyes widened, "W-what? What happened? Did somebody die here?"

"Oh, you know." Lauren smirked.

Samantha's eyes widened with excitement, her mouth contorting into a smile, "I knew it! This is where those teachers-"

"Shut up, Sammy." Lauren cut her off sharply. For some reason, Melinda felt like she'd swallowed a rock.

"What're you talking about?" Chip asked in a mixture of curiousity and exasperation.

"It's this awesome town story." Samantha added, "There's this car with two teachers inside, and one day-"

"Jesus!" Lauren hollered, "Will you just shut up and let me tell the damn story?!"

Samantha narrowed her eyes at her 'friend' but said nothing. Melinda folded her arms, trying not to look as squirmy as she felt.

Satisfied with the silence, Lauren took a deep breath and began to weave the tale:

"It happened almost three years ago, on a late December afternoon. It was just a typical day in the town of Burgess. Everyone was at school or at work, but these two weren't. They should have been, though. They were university professors. One taught philosophy, the other taught chemistry."

The sinking feeling in Melinda's stomach grew.

"Normally, they spent the day teaching coke-snorting teens the secrets of the universe, but not today. Apparently, something weird had happened at the elementary school. One of the doors had been frozen, trapping another teacher inside, and the teachers' daughter had disappeared."

A patch of cold sweat formed on the small of Melinda's back.

"So what did they do? They went there, of course. They were driving and listening to the radio when it happened. Bang!" Lauren made a movement with her hands that indicated two objects slamming together, "A drunk driver and his friends rammed into their car, and it sent them skidding down a hillside." She paused for effect, "_This_ hillside."

Melinda was certain of it now, no matter how much she wanted it to be false. This dumb girl was describing Melinda's past - the past event she'd desperately wanted to forget.

"The bodies were taken to the hospital, but everyone says their ghosts still linger here. For all we know, they're still down there."

Lauren's words had a haunting effect. All of a sudden, the place seemed ten degrees colder, and Melinda felt like she was being watched. Judging by Chip's awkward glancing about, it was obvious that the feeling was mutual.

Samantha finally broke the silence, "You are **_so_** full of shit."

Lauren laughed. It was like someone dragging iron down a chalkboard. "Really? Then I guess you won't mind going first."

"Going _where?_" Samantha demanded.

"Five victims, five jack-o-lanterns." Lauren explained, holding up five fingers, "Each one symbolizing a lost soul. So, we're gonna leave them by the side of the lake as an offering to those who died."

"...Oh." Samantha nodded.

Melinda said nothing, but internally, she was beaming with joy. She was glad that, at least, her parents weren't excluded from the list of recognized souls. She hadn't even attended their funeral because it had been too much to deal with - especially since she'd deemed herself responsible.

She hadn't bid them farewell. Now was the time to do it.

Ten minutes later, the small group was gathering the pumpkins in their arms. There was a small, stony staircase leading to the swamp below. As they began to descend, Chip stole a glance at Melinda, who was holding two pumpkins instead of one.  
"Are those yours?" He asked, taking in the images (one was carved to look like a grinning skull, the other a witch on a broomstick).  
Melinda blushed lightly as she answered, "Yes."

"They're very pretty." Chip stated, looking first at the pumpkins, then at her. Lauren glowered at the boy like he'd just punched her grandmother.  
Melinda was grateful for the dark; otherwise, everyone would have been able to see her scarlet face.  
"Thank...you." She replied timidly.  
Samantha and Lauren shared an eye-roll as they began to go down the steps. Chip and Melinda followed, watching their step.

Samantha and Lauren seemed to be in a hurry, though. Ignoring the calls from Chip and Melinda, they disappeared in the fog.

Melinda arched a brow as she and Chip reached the foot of the swamp, "Do they wanna end up in quicksand?"  
"God, I hope so." Chip snickered, "Lauren's a pain, trust me. It'd be a relief to have her gone."

"Why do you hang out with her, then?" Melinda asked, tucking some hair behind her ear.  
Chip ran his fingers over the pumpkin's visage, buying himself time to answer. After a minute, he shrugged awkwardly, "I dunno. I guess I'm just a spineless chicken who gets convinced easily."

A scream sliced through the air like icy daggers.

Melinda and Chip spun around, their eyes wide. The scream, plainly feminine, echoed through the night air like a ghost. Even when it died out, it left a sinister presence in the air.  
Chip looked ready to soil himself, but he nevertheless put down the jack-o-lantern and walked towards the entrace, "Wait here."  
A clawed hand grabbed him by the shirt and jerked him back. Chip was surprised at how effortlessly he was yanked. Melinda looked at him almost angrily, "And what? Watch helplessly from the guidelines? Oh, no. I'm going."

"Forget it!"

Melinda chuckled, shaking her head. She let go of Chip's shirt, smoothing out the creases, "Trust me. I'm a lot stronger than you think."

Chip wanted to argue, but Melinda (who'd pulled the mask back over her face) was already on her way into the swamp. She called over her shoulder, "Don't let the jack-o-lanterns go out. They'll protect you."

"Uh...sure, yeah. Okay." Chip called back. Once the girl was out of sight, though, he snuck into the swamp, taking a different route from hers.

* * *

Entering the swamp might've seemed like a good idea at first - after all, she was perfectly capable of defending herself - but by her fiftieth step into the place, she was beginning to have her doubts. Rotten roots and branches crumbled under her feet, and the cool air was thick with the smell of earth and vegetation.

_'There's nothing to be afraid of,'_ Melinda thought to herself, _'Just get in, drag those girls out by their hair, and go home. End of story.'_

Another scream pierced the air, making Melinda jump like a cat. It was shorter than the previous one, but it sounded a lot closer. Just a couple of meters away, in fact.

Chewing on her lip, Melinda reached to her side and unclasped the lid on her gourd. Nightmare Sand hissed and curled around her hands like a pet asking to be stroked. Melinda grinned to herself and visualized her dagger: around two and a half inches long, with and silver hand shaped like a screaming woman and a mercury-tipped blade sharp enough to cut through glass as though it were butter.  
Seconds later, she was clutching it.

With the way she was armed, no ghost or undead creature would dare mess with her.

Finally, she reached what looked like a muddy lake. Even in the awful lighting, Melinda could tell that the water was a greenish-brown color. Dead leaves formed a carpet around the edges. Melinda saw something in the middle of the lake...and felt her heart hammer in her ribs.  
She could see half of a car poking out of the mud, the rest of it lost in the murky depths of the lake.

It was her family's Mercedes, coated in rust and mold. Her parents weren't inside, but they might as well have been. They'd died here, after all.

Sobs clogged Melinda's throat, and her shoulders shook. The scars she'd taken care of for so long began to rip open all over again. Melinda wanted out; she wanted to turn on her heel and run away from this place and the memories it held. This was like losing her parents all over again.

Wait. Was something bobbing in the water there?

Not wanting to so much as _touch_ the filthy water, Melinda summoned some more sand to form a whip. The sandy black whip curled around the object and plucked it out. Melinda held it up for a better look.

Her blood ran cold.

It was the heart sceptor Lauren had been holding until now.

As fear coursed through her veins, Melinda turned back to look at the water. To her horror, bits of the girls' costumes were visible: Lauren's crown and a sleeve from her dress, and Samantha's headband and plastic fangs.

Oh, God. What had happened here?

Something grabbed her ankle. Melinda looked down and shrieked. A hand was sticking out of the blankets of dead leaves, holding onto her ankle with an iron grip. She watched with horror as some kind of zombie emerged from the leaves, staring up at her with empty eyes.

Melinda screamed again and, thinking quickly, slammed the sceptor in the creature's face. It yelped and released her ankle. Melinda didn't need a second chance; she was running like the wind a second later.

She didn't make it ten feet; another moaning zombie jumped out and tackled her. "Get off me, you freak!" She yelled, mindlessly stabbing the figure. It whimpered in pain and let go; Melinda ran, but when she turned around to search for more pursuers, her foot tangled in a tree branch.  
"Whoa!" She fell backwards, slamming the back of her head on the rocks. Darkness engulfed her.

* * *

"Oh, shit."

"Is she dead?"

"Her?! You're asking about _her_ when _I'm_ the one who got stabbed?!"

"Well, frankly, you were kinda looking for it. You saw she had a knife, didn't you?"

"How was I supposed to know it was real?"

Melinda moaned, her eyelids flickering. The voices hushed down. The girl opened her eyes...to find three zombies hovering over her.

She screamed, and black sand knocked them all backwards. Melinda scrambled to her feet, using the tree bark for support, and tried to make a getaway. She winced at the pain in the back of her head.

"Melinda!"

She stopped, wondering she'd heard right.

"Melinda, wait! It's us!"

Melinda's eyes slowly widened. She whirled around just in time to see one of the zombies take off its face.

"Ch...Chip?" She could hardly say it.

The other two zombies removed their masks, revealing themselves to be Samantha and Lauren.  
Lauren sighed, "It was all going so well. Except, y'know." She rubbed her side.

"What..." Melinda felt anger surge through her body like fire, "What was that all about?!"

"Melinda," Chip, taking her anger for fear, stepped towards her, "Calm down, please. I-it was all just a trick." He held up his mask, "Look, none of this is real. It was just a trick." He stood beside her, guilt written all over his face, "We do this every year, but this time it was...a little overboard. Sorry."

"What're you apologizing for?" Lauren asked, "You didn't even jump out. You just stood there in your costume."

Chip glowered at her, "Shut. _Up_." He turned back to Melinda, who was grimacing and rubbing the back of her head.  
"Here, let me see." As he eyed her wound, Samantha stepped forward as if to apologize. Lauren, however, held her arm out and kept Samantha still.

"Does it hurt?" Chip asked gently.

"What do you think?!" Melinda snapped, stepping away from Chip, "You do this every year? To whom? Anyone who passes by?"

"N-no." Chip answered shamefully, "We usually pick kids we don't like, but since we'd already pranked them..."

"...You picked me." Melinda finished in disgust, "Because I had no clue who you were." Her face hardened, "Right. Thanks for ruining my Halloween." With that, she spun on her heel and raced into the fog.

Chip watched her go with a sigh. This had been a huge mistake. He realized that now. Normally, this sort of thing was the definition of 'fun' for him, but this year...he just felt awful.

He turned to the two girls, "Go pack everything up. We're leaving."

"Says who?" Lauren asked.

"Lauren," Chip growled, "She's not scared; she's furious. And this place is creeping me out. Let's just go."  
He must've sounded as angry as he felt, for after a minute, Lauren sighed and turned to Samantha, "Let's go."  
The two disappeared by the lakeside, where their things awaited.

* * *

Melinda kicked at the dirt with a snarl, tears dripping down her face. How could she have been so stupid?! How could she believe that a perfect stranger would want her at a party? On Halloween, no less! It defied every law of logic!  
She'd been a numskull. She'd been stupid enough to trust a boy she didn't even know. And because of those three goons, Halloween was ruined.

Melinda angrily wiped her eyes, accidentally scratching her cheeks with her claws. To think, she'd been dumb enough to want to...socialize. To be normal again, even if for a night.

No. She should've known by now. She couldn't trust anyone. Look where trusting people had brougth her! She'd trusted Jack enough to escape detention and indirectly cause her parents' death. And now, she'd put her faith in a boy she didn't even know. How had that ended for her? Her Halloween was wrecked, her costume was filthy, and she had a gash on the back of her head.

The truth dawned on Melinda. She felt ice layer her heart.

She couldn't trust anyone.

Except Pitch.

Melinda looked at the swamp over her shoulder. All of her pain and anger were replaced with a cold void, like an iceblock were blocking her feelings. Those twits had dared to make a buffoon out of her - and in her parents' grave, no less! This would not go unpunished. She reached for her gourd, which was still filled with Nightmare Sand. At least a pound of it, in fact.

She would show them the true meaning of the word 'fear'.

* * *

"If this was all a trick, how'd the car get here?" Samantha asked as Lauren stuffed her things in her backpack. Chip sat on a rock, examining his fingernails.  
"That part's true." Lauren answered wearily.  
"Then what happened to the girl?"  
"I dunno. She went to live with her aunt or something." Lauren responded. After a minute, though, she paused and frowned, "What?" Even Chip looked up.

"I didn't say anything."

No, Lauren was certain she'd heard a whisper. She shrugged it off, "I'm not in the mood, Sammy."

"It wasn't me!" Samantha whined.

"It's true." Chip piped up, "She didn't say a word."

"Then who was it?" Lauren wheeled around, her hands on her hips.

As if in reply, loud hissing noises filled the air. Lauren slowly put down the bag, her senses alert, "What is that?"

Chip saw it first. All the color drained from his face, "Oh, my Lord."

The two girls followed his gaze. A thin sheet of ice coated their stomachs.

Long, thin things were slinking across the murky water, heading straight for them. After a second, the trio realized what they were.

Snakes. As long as buses and thick as pot roast, but still snakes as black as midnight. The snakes looked up and met the teens' terrified stares with glowing gold eyes. The largest one hissed, displaying shiny black teeth.

Then, the snakes attacked.

* * *

"This is absurd!" Molly protested as she struggled to keep up with Jack, "It's Halloween, Frosty! Of course kids are going to scream!"

"Not like this!" Jack retorted, jumping from one treetop to another, "These were real screams, Molly. With real fear in them."

Molly sighed, "Look, I know my vision of the snake person worried you, but I doubt this has anything to do with it. Kids are always performing cruel pranks on each other. That could be it."

Jack whirled around and faced his friend, who almost bumped into him. The winter sprite said, "Okay, tell you what. We check the place; if nothing's going on, you win. If there is, I win." He held his pale hand out, "Deal?"  
Molly stared at her friend's hand for a moment before sighing, "Deal." They shook on it and made it to the swamp without further conversation.

For the most part, the swamp was pretty ordinary. But when they reached the small, dirty lake, the two guardians were greeted by a gruesome sight.

The area was littered with torn clothes, though thankfully, there was no blood. The mud had deep streaks, as though people had been dragged through it. Three young people were scattered in the muck, their eyes wide with fear.

"Oh, God." Molly was beside the first kid - a boy of maybe fourteen or fifteen years - in a heartbeat. She placed a finger on the side of his neck. After a second, she turned to Jack with frightened, cloudy-gray eyes, "From what I can tell, they're alive. But they're in a state of shock."

"What happened here?" Jack breathed, holding his staff tightly.

"I wish I could tell you." Molly shook her head, "But there's no trace of...whatever did this to him. Maybe it was a spirit?"

Jack shrugged, "I've seen a couple of spirits scare kids, but never _this_ bad." As he took in the sight, he noticed something gray from the corner of his eye.

"Huh?" He turned around.

A figure was standing on top of the car half-sunken in the water. It wore a torn black cloak and a bodysuit that looked like gray scales. A mask that resembled a snake's skull covered most of the person's face, save for the jaw, mouth, and chin. It was staring at the destructive scene with...what was it? Satisfaction?

Molly happened to look in the same direction as Jack and gasped. She paled, "I-it's him - her - it! The person in my vision!"

The figure jerked at the sound of the voices. Jack got the uncanny sensation it was looking directly at him.

"You..." The rest of the statement died on his lips.

The figure grinned wickedly, "**_Kssh_**."

Then, it walked backwards into the shadows. A second later, it was gone.


	24. Chapter 23: Melinda Black

Chapter 22: Melinda Black

"...And it disappeared. Just like that." Molly finished the tale, throwing her arms in the air, "I don't know who that was or what it wanted, but it couldn't be good. Jack and I had to take those kids to the hospital, and we stayed to hear how they were. You know how bad it was? _Catatonic_ bad."

"Vhat?!" North exclaimed, nearly knocking over the eggnog sitting on his desk, "You mean zees children ver scared stiff?"

"Oh, yeah." Jack nodded, "The doctors said it could take _months_ for them to recover."

"Well, that settles it!" Bunny straightened, "Pitch did it, I know it!"

Tooth flew down, her eyes concerned, "Um, are you sure, Bunny? Jack and Molly didn't find any black sand."

"So?" Bunny turned to her, "He can still scare wit'out the bloody stuff. Like that thing he does with shadows."

Jack scoffed, "You need to get out more, Cotton Tail."

Molly groaned. Not again. Sandy conjured up a big ball of dream sand just in case.

"What's that s'posed to mean?" Bunny demanded.

Jack placed a hand on his chest, "Do you think I'd get scared by a shadow?"

"Well, no." Bunny answered, "Yer a lotta things, Frost, but ya ain't a chicken."

"Aw, thanks." Jack gave him a grin before gesturing to Molly with his staff, "What about Molly? Do you think she'd get scared?"

"No." Bunny replied, clearly growing impatient, "What's yer dang point?"

"My point," Jack explained confidently "Is that these weren't five-year-olds. These were kids around our age. Well, Molly's anyway. They wouldn't get scared at the sight of a creepy shadow. It had to be something big."

"Yeah, I see whatcha mean, mate," Bunny answered tiredly, "But that doesn't change what I think. I'm tellin' ya, Pitch did it! I'll bet my carrot garden on it."

Jack snickered, "I'll take that bet." He stood up, "Okay, I'll go check out Pitch's lair. Try to trick him in a confession, y'know?"

"Ha!" Bunny laughed hollowly, "Good luck with that!"

Molly glared at them, "You're not helping."

"Jack," North said gently, "I am not sure if-"

"Don't worry, North." Jack assured his father-figure, "Pitch is so weak now, I'd be surprised if he could stand on his own two feet. You said it yourself: fewer and fewer people are believing in him, right?"

"Da." North confirmed.

"Then there's nothing to worry about." Jack stated, "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll be kicking Pitch's ass from here to Texas."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa." Molly stood up, "Slow down, Hot-Shot. Do you even _know_ where his lair is?"

"Yeah; I've been there before."

"Oh, that must've been pleasant." Molly muttered sarcastically before getting serious again, "Still, even if he's weakened, he could seriously injure you. From what you've told me, he lives underground. It should be child's play for him to toss you in the Earth's core. And when that happens," Molly ran a finger across her throat, "You're dead."

"Wow, thanks for the encouragement." Jack told her, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

Molly rolled her eyes and pulled out her handgun. "Catch," She tossed him the revolver, which he caught.  
"But don't waste the bullets." Molly warned him, "They have mercury tips."

"Cool." Jack pocketed the gun and saluted his fellow guardians, "Adios."

"Jack!" Tooth suddenly blurted out. Jack turned to her while Molly did her best to hide her smirk.  
"...Be careful." Tooth finally said. Jack gave her a nod before leaping on the window. The icy wind rushed out and slashed at everyone's exposed skin like hungry dogs. Molly gasped at the cold and stuffed her hands in her sweatshirt pockets. Jack snickered at her, "What, you don't like the cold?"

Molly flipped him off. Jack only laughed and turned to face the blizzard outside, "Wind! Take me to Pitch's lair!"

The wind seemed to hesitate. It ruffled Jack's snowy hair, as if asking him if he was sure. Jack nodded, "Yeah, I'm sure! Take me there already!"

The wind sighed and picked the winter spirit up.

* * *

Pitch winced in pain as he tried in vain to heal his wounds. He'd tried to use Nightmare Sand as a sort of paste for the cracks appearing in his skin. No such luck; if anything, every time he pulled out the obsidian sand, _more_ cracks appeared.

"I hope you're satisfied, old friend." Pitch sighed as he gave up, staring at his cracked arms, "You created the guardians to keep my fear at bay. Now, there's no way I will ever be a threat again."

_'What about your apprentice?'_

Pitch frowned as he slipped his robes back on, "What about her?"

_'She will not do well.'_ The moon answered, _'She already used her Nightmare Sand to send her tormenters in a state of shock. She is too rash and inconsiderate. She will upset the balance.'_

Pitch's eyes widened slightly. He hadn't heard about this; he didn't even know if Lucy was home yet. But for some reason, he couldn't be angry with her; even Tsar had just said 'tormentors'. Lucy was forbidden from physically harming innocents. Technically, she hadn't broken any rules.  
To be perfectly honest with himself, Pitch was sort of proud. She wasn't even thirteen yet, and she was already capable of sending people into shock. Besides, if these people had hurt her, she had to show them who's boss. He'd chosen very well indeed.

_'Kozmotis...'_

"Be silent, you old fool." Pitch stood up, wrapping black satin around his cracked hands, "Lucy is still young. She is bound to make mistakes. But in this case, I don't think she committed an error. As I always say: eye for an eye, tooth for a tooth. If someone lacerated her, then she must hit them back."

The moon fell silent, but not before Pitch heard it sigh. The Nightmare King shrugged it off. He couldn't care less about how MiM felt. MiM had done nothing but show contempt for Pitch and his work since the Dark Ages. Pitch brought fear, which not only protects people from ridiculously dangerous deeds (like jumping off a skyscraper or eating belladonna) but shows people what they fear the most in order for them to deal with it. Facing one's fears made that person stronger. Without fear, humanity wouldn't have lasted more than a handful of centuries.

But did MiM see that? No, he brought into being his precious guardians to chase out the fear from children's hearts. Of course he would be ready to lecture Pitch on his apprentice now that she was learning to wield her power.

With those thoughts in mind, Pitch folded his hands behind his back and strode through the Realm. The shadows hissed amicably and curled at his feet, greeting him. The Nightmare King walked down the twisting, dim corridors, focusing on his destinations. While his home was designed to send most people into madness, there was a way to navigate through the labyrinth; if one kept his/her terminus in mind, he/she will find his way without losing his path. Or sanity, for that matter.

Before too long, Pitch found Lucy's bedroom door. Without bothering to knock first, he entered the room and was greeted by darkness. The dark red curtains were drawn and the blue fireballs that usually illuminated the room were extinguished.

So, his little light had already returned home and gone to sleep. Too bad; he'd been looking forward to hearing how it went, especially if she'd managed to scare someone.

Lucy was curled up her bed, which was much larger than it'd been upon her arrival. Now, it was only slightly smaller than Pitch's king-sized bed. Pitch stood over the girl, searching her expression. Even in the poor light, he could see her face as clear as day. There were dried tearstains on her cheeks, and her brow was furrowed.

Ah. So it hadn't gone too well, then.

Pitch lingered for a moment before placing a cool hand on Lucy's forehead, lightly tapping into her mind.

_A swamp._

_A half-sunk vehicle._

_Screams._

_Three zombies inches from her face._

_Nightmare Sand flying out of the gourd, taking on the shape of a snake._

He gasped a little and pulled away. Lucy stirred but did not wake. The Boogeyman instantly felt burning anger towards those children. How dare they trick Lucy like that! How dare they take her to the place where her parents had died!  
They'd gotten what they deserved. Lucy had singlehandedly created a small group of snakes to scare them - and to toss them around a bit.  
Pitch smiled lightly and stroked his apprentice's cheek. It felt nice and familiar to touch warm, living flesh instead of the cold sand that was practically a part of him.

Lucy squirmed in her bed, sweat beading on her temples. Pitch watched as Nightmare Sand formed above her head.

It showed Lucy in some large body of icy water, terrified to the bone. She kept trying to stay afloat, but she kept disappearing under the suface. As the image shifted, Pitch understood why: chains were tied around her ankles, dragging her into the watery abyss. The first chain was made of ice and snow; it didn't take a genius to tell who Lucy was thinking about there. The other was made of bones; another was crimson.  
Just like that, Pitch understood. These chains...they symbolized the people who'd let Lucy down. Jack Frost, who'd diffusely caused the death of her parents; Lauren, the mastermind behind the cruel plot; and Chip, the boy she'd sort of liked. They were all pulling her deeper into the cold water, cutting off her breath. The Boogeyman felt a pang of pity in his non-beating heart.

In the dream, Lucy almost drowned, but as the last bubbles left her lips, a hand reached into the polar water and pulled her out. The girl spluttered and gasped, clinging to her savior's arm with an unbreakable grip. As she looked up and met the eyes of her rescuer, she slowly smiled.

That was when Pitch saw the dream's hero. It felt like someone had smacked him in the face.

It was _him_. _He_ was the one saving Lucy from drowning.

Pitch was so surprised he almost lost his footing. He could scarely believe it, especially since he was still used to being feared rather than respected. He was still trying to accept that Lucy saw him as a father figure (because really, when you're the King of Fear, would you believe that a child could see you in that light?), but a savior? This...this was a whole new level.

Now, Lucy looked a bit more serene. She sighed, and the tiniest of smiles appeared on her face. In the dream, Pitch was helping her out of the water, where the chains let go of her ankles and crawled back into the waves like snakes.

Before he could stop himself, Pitch knelt down and stroked the child - _his_ child's - face. He cupped her cheek, watching as the nightmare changed into a dream. Lucy's small smile widened slightly as she subconsciously leaned in to the touch. It filled Pitch with a tender feeling, the knowledge that the girl saw him as a preserver. That she needed him and wanted to stay close to him. It reminded him so much of his own daughter, but this was different. This girl had only known him for around three years, while Eartha had known him all her life.

Pitch smiled softly.

He couldn't have asked for a better child.

A loud banging noise made the Nightmare King stand upright. Surprise instantly gave way to rage. The Realm made no noise by itself. That could only mean one thing: someone had invaded it.

Well, whoever it was, he was going to get the fright of a lifetime.

Without thinking about it, Pitch turned back to the sleeping child and pulled the blanket over her, concealing her from sight.

Then, he stepped into the shadows, ready to take down the intruder.

* * *

Jack whistled as he made his way down the stone steps. This place was even more aggravating that he remembered. Keeping the staff close to his body in case of an attack, he checked out the large, iron bird cages hanging from the cave ceiling. He still remembered when all of Tooth's helpers had been locked inside those hateful things. For a moment, the guardian of fun was tempted to freeze the cages. Then, he shook his head. He had an objective here; he could wreck Pitch's home another time.

A hand grabbed him by the hood, making him yelp in surprise. A second later, Pitch appeared, holding Jack by the collar like a naughty puppy. The Boogeyman's gold eyes were as sleeted as the frost Jack created.

"Oh, Frost." Pitch purred in a voice about as warm as the Northern wind, "How nice of you to stop by. And to think, I was just thinking about you."

"Oh, really?" Jack asked, playing along.

"Yes. I so enjoy imagining all the ways to torture you." Pitch dropped the winter spirit, who fell in a heap on the stone foor. "Now, answer my question, if you please: why are you here?"

Jack scoffed as he stood back up, brushing off his sweatshirt, "You're actually asking me that?"

"How else would you like me to get the answer? Mince you to bits until you spit it out?"

"No, no. That's cool." Jack held his hands up, "I'm actually here about an incident that happened near Burgess."

"Oh?" Pitch acted surprised, "Now you've got me interested, boy. What happened, may I ask?"

Jack gave him a look, "Don't play dumb, Pitch. I know you scared the daylights out of those kids. I saw you. And by the way, scales don't suit you."

Pitch threw his head back and chortled. His laughter rang through the Realm like blackbirds. Jack flinched at the sound but managed to keep a straight face.

"Poor, sweet Jack." Pitch said as he eyed Jack piteously, "Maybe it's escaped your notice, but I am not the only immortal who gives your fellow guardians problems from time to time. There are many spirits who haunt the living on a regular basis, for example."

Jack rolled his eyes, "Yeah, right. So I'm supposed to believe that you, the King of Nightmares, stayed at home on Halloween, the night dedicated to fear?"

"Yes." Pitch answered simply.

Jack arched a brow, "You wouldn't mind if I looked around here, would ya?"

"Yes, I _do_ mind, actually." Pitch answered, the humor gone from his voice, "This is my home. You can't just parade in here uninvited and expect to be welcome."

Jack growled, "Yes, I can. This is an emergency; if you're threatening kids again, I swear you'll get away with a lot worse than last time!" Without waiting for an answer, he bolted into the dark halls.

Pitch smirked. Jack had only been in here once, and during that little visit he'd been as lost and helpless as an infant. This was going to be interesting.

* * *

By some crazy twist of fate, Jack finally found a room after what felt like an infinity of black, unforgiving hallways. The winter spirit was seriously debating on abandoning the mission and heading home. Pitch didn't appear to be responsible, and Jack was feeling tired and irritable. He decided to check this room; if there was nothing, he'd leave.

Once he was inside, though, he calmed down a little. This room felt...nice, and homey.

It was a pretty spacious bedroom, and by the looks of it, Jack could tell that it'd been occupied for quite some time. The walls were violet with thousands of tiny black stars, and an old bookshelf stuffed with volumes took up nearly an entire wall. Photographs and maps were pinned onto the walls. A soft, light gray carpet felt incredibly comfortable on Jack's bare feet, and the curtains were drawn.  
Was this Pitch's bedroom? No, impossible. It just didn't fit.

Jack's eyes darted to the huge bed in the corner. The black blanket patterned with blue roses was pulled over the mattress.

But wait...

The winter spirit slowly walked towards the bed. After a moment, he reached out and carefully pulled the blanket down. His eyes widened.

A girl was sleeping peacefully in the bed. Jack guessed her to be twelve or thirteen; she had skin that might have once been olive, but had paled to a light gold color. Wavy, reddish-brown hair streamed out on the pillow behind her.

For some reason, Jack felt that this girl was...familiar to him. Like he'd seen - or even _known_ - her before. But his rationality told him that it was impossible. He'd remember meeting her. He had a group of believers, but it was still small enough for him to remember everyone's face and name.

If that was true, then why did he feel this unsual sentiment?

The girl shifted, and Jack noticed something on her wrist. What was it? It looked like glass.  
Curious, he turned around and pulled the curtain away. Moonlight spilled into the room, shining on the girl.

Little did Jack know, the girl's eyes shot open.

"Get away from the bed. **_Now_**."

Jack whirled around to see Pitch in the doorway, his face set in a snarl. Jack tried not to look intimidated as he gestured to the girl, "Who is this?"

"That's none of your concern. Now, leave."

Jack took a step towards the Nightmare King, "Did you kidnap her? Because if you did, I'll tell-"

Lucy pounced on Jack's back, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck. Pitch watched with wide eyes as his apprentice blocked the air from his enemy's lungs. Jack's pale face turned eggshell-white as he tried to pry Lucy's arms off, but it was no use. After a moment, his eyes rolled back. He fell on his knees, unconscious. Lucy scrambled off him, panting and wild-eyed. She stared at him with a torrent of emotions: horror, pain, confusion, and affection.

She glanced up and met Pitch's eyes. Without a second's hesitation, she ran to her mentor and wrapped her arms around his waist. Pitch automatically hugged her back, pressing her face into his chest.  
"Are you alright?" He asked.  
"Yeah." Lucy pulled away, "I just - I didn't think. I just **_acted_**." She turned to stare at Jack almost fearfully, "D-did I...?"

"No." Pitch shook his head, "He is still very much alive. It takes a lot more than that to kill an immortal. The lack of oxygen only knocked him out. He probably won't even remember this little trip." He looked down at Lucy, "I am sorry he disturbed you, Lucy."

"No." The girl grew serious, looking right into Pitch's eyes. "Not Lucy. That girl is dead." She looked almost frightening as she said, "It's Melinda now. Melinda Black."


	25. Chapter 23: Breaking Point

Chapter 23: Breaking Point

18-year-old Lucy sighed shakily, her hand tangling in her hair. She was reaching the part that she'd been dreading since she'd shown up here a couple of hours before. While she knew she had to write it all down, she found herself tempted to skip it. Even if it'd been three years ago, she still wanted to dig a hole and jump into it for the shame it still brought her.  
But no. She couldn't skip even the _slightest detail_. It was simply too important to write down everything before...well, the time came.

Once again, the air was filled with muffled scratching noises: the sound of a quill against old paper.

_I still can't believe how much I changed in the next two years. Almost nothing remained of Lucy Rivera, the sweet young girl who'd lost her world. Now, Melinda Black was in full dominence. The two were as different as yin and yang: while Lucy loved being in company, Melinda favored solitude over companionship. Lucy loved sweets, while Melinda despised them. The only thing that didn't change about me was my relationship with Pitch. He was the only person I let in. He was my mentor, my father, my everything. Even when I felt my heart slowly turn to ice, it never affected how I felt (or acted) towards the Boogeyman.  
But the thing that stuck to me most - the one detail I can't forget - was the change one could see on the **outside**. Lucy's smile - **my** smile - had been open and happy._  
_But Melinda's had been cold as death._

* * *

Pitch Black lay in his bed, his eyes closed and his chest just barely rising and falling. The pale orange rays slowly retreated from his carpet as another day died. Even though he knew it was almost time to get up and spread nightmares, the Boogeyman didn't move. This had been going on for a little less than two years: instead of jumping out of bed and making a beeline for the Night Mare stables, he would remain immobile until he heard Melinda get ready. Then, he would force himself to move.

Why, do you ask? Why did he leave the warm, soft sheets of his bed and familiar shadows of his room? Especially since he was growing weaker and needed his rest?

Here's why: Melinda was totally ignorant of his state. She'd noticed the gloves and scarf he now wore and had asked him countless times, but he'd never told her. He did his best to be the same strong, confident dark creature that had taken her in. He asked her to cover more ground - and spread more nightmares without him - then before, but he'd refused to give her any explanations. All she knew for sure was that he was tiring a lot more easily than before.

After months of ceaselessly asking and probing, the girl had finally given up. For that, Pitch was relieved. The girl might have seemed stronger and tougher than before, but the Nightmare King could see through her armor as though it were glass. She had no one; only him. She depended on him and did everything she could for him. Pitch knew that seeing the thousands of cracks now covering his body would be enough to send Melinda plunging in despair.  
He couldn't put her through that.

A soft tapping noise on his door pulled him out of his thoughts. "Knock, knock." A soft voice stated, "I know you can't eat, but I made you some jasmine tea anyway. I tried it last spring when we went to Hong Kong, and it was amazing."

"Ah, my little light..." Pitch turned so that his gold orbs were locked with Melinda's chestnut ones, "What a sight for sore eyes."  
Melinda grinned that dark simper of hers, "**_Kssh_**." She really was a sight. She'd changed so much since she'd become his apprentice, it was like having a completely different person in front of him. While she was still a little on the short side (5'2), anyone could tell she wasn't a child. Her wavy russet hair reached her elbows, and the total lack of sunlight had turned her once-olive skin to a pasty color. She'd even begun to wear make-up: black-rimmed eyes and dark cherry lipstick. Her wardrobe was a strange mix of punk, goth, and tomboy.

Pitch liked the necklace resting on her collarbone the most. He'd gotten it for her on her fifteenth birthday a month ago. It was a dragon made of black pearls, with glittering topaz eyes. Its ivory teeth were as sharp as toothpicks, and it hung on a simple black chain around her neck. Whenever his sweet serpent was out of sight, Pitch used this very dragon to see her whereabouts, seeing the world through those gold eyes.

Melinda placed the mug of steaming tea on the nightstand and sat next to her mentor, "So, how're you feeling, Dad?"

_Dad_. Even after two years of hearing her say it, Pitch still felt a wave of tenderness for the girl. He chuckled lightly, "A little tired. But fine."

Melinda scoffed, a playful smile on her lips, "Yeah, right. You look like you were hit by a bus."

Pitch lightly smacked her head, "Don't question me, child. Give me ten minutes and I'll be right as rain."

"You had all day." Melinda countered, "What difference does another ten minutes make?"

Pitch sighed and rolled his eyes.

"You stay here for tonight." Melinda tucked her mentor in, "I'll do it."

Pitch arched a brow, "You must be joking."

"No, I'm not." Melinda snapped her fingers, and clothes morphed into the suit she wore on their excursions. It was the same outfit she'd worn on that fateful Halloween night, only slightly larger to accommodate her growing body. The snake skull - a real one now, stolen from some museum - rested on her head as she added, "I know you're starting to feel your age, and I'd rather you didn't walk on thin ice." Her expression softened, "I have Nyx, three pounds of Nightmare Sand, and my knife. Nothing will happen, I promise."

Pitch watched her for a long, seemingly endless moment. Even if she'd been inexperienced and unlucky the night she'd encountered Molly, Pitch had never forgotten that she'd been wounded. Even if he'd seen her tear his Fearlings apart (as part of her training), who's to say she'd be completely free of danger? He had many enemies, many spiteful immortals whom he'd tormented in life or whose family he'd taken. They could very well discover the connection between him and Melinda and take it out on her.  
But, all things considered, Melinda had to learn to do this by herself. His time was running out, and it was best that she got used to going alone.

Finally, he nodded, "Very well."

Melinda brightened, and she almost looked like her younger self again. "Yes!" She cheered, tucking her dagger in her belt, "See you later, Dad!" As she turned around to leave, however, a black tentacle grabbed her by the waist and pulled her back.

"Not so fast," Pitch scolded her, "First, recite the rules."

Melinda had to bite her lips to supress a groan. Even though she understood how vital these rules were, reciting them was a drag. It annoyed her almost as much as the Pledge of Allegiance bothered other kids.

"Well?" Pitch asked, clearly expecting her to talk.

She sighed, "Be back by the crack of dawn. No exceptions."

"Good. Next."

"Don't talk to anyone, especially an adult. I'm not an immortal yet; anyone can see me unless I stick to the shadows."

"Yes. Next."

"No serious nightmares." Melinda concluded, "Nothing that people would consider abnormal. Just plain old nightmares, and only pick a few people."

Pitch smiled and stroked her hair. Such a display of affection was rare for the Nightmare King, so Melinda treasured it. "That's my girl." He purred, "Now, run along. The night is young."

Melinda beamed, "Yessir." She leaned forward and kissed Pitch's cheekbone like a daughter going off to school. Pulling the serpent's skull over her face, she ran out of the room.

* * *

"Yeah! Woooo!" Melinda cheered as her Night Mare, Nyx, glided through the night air with an eel's grace. She wouldn't trade this feeling for anything in the universe: the cold wind streaming through her hair, the distant rumbles of thunder, and the blackness that sank into her skin like humidity. Oh, how she'd come to love the darkness!

The city lights of her first town, Denver, twinkled thousands of feet below, and the full moon was blocked by clouds as thick and black as coal dust.  
Good. The Man in the Moon, from what Melinda had understood, was like the guardians' watchdog. From his place in the sky, he could always see Pitch slinking about; especially at nighttime, the only time the Boogeyman could go out without getting burned.  
Very clever.

Over the years, Melinda had been allowed to venture outside of North America. Now, she was permitted to go to Mexico, South America, and even a few European countries! Pitch's Night Mares travelled everywhere else, but Melinda was always sure to leave no stone unturned, so to speak.  
She'd even found the perfect way of spreading fear through a city without moving around too much.

Quieting down to avoid awakening someone, Melinda steered Nyx to the roof of a house. Once the horse's black, shining hooves clattered on the concrete, Melinda dismounted her and stroked her nose. "Good girl." She murmured, giving the horse a treat: a plump, dark purple belladonna berry. She'd discovered some time ago that these obsidian beasts actually loved poisonous fruits. It had surprised her to no end, but at least it saved her and Pitch the trouble of buying sugar cubes and apples.

Nyx devoured the berry greedily, spilling some juice on the concrete. Melinda rolled her eyes, "Gluttonous animal. But at least you're fast." With that, she shifted her gaze to the night sky, waiting.

She didn't have to wait long. By the time all the windows were dark, gold streams of dream sand appeared from the heavens, illuminating the night like lanterns. A thick vein of it soared past Melinda. Before she could stop herself, she touched it lightly, with one fingertip. Tiny gold snakes emerged from within and swam through the air like fish in water. Melinda cracked a tiny smile as the small, luminescent snakes danced before vanishing. She turned back to the showers of gold sand, watching as they entered every window and formed a dream over a sleeping person's head.

Finally, the streams dissolved. That was Melinda's cue.

"Here we go," She reached into the gourd hanging from her belt, filling her palm with black sand. With a small, grunt, she tossed the handful into the air. The sand glittered in the air like dark stars before taking on the shapes of sparrows no bigger than Melinda's thumb. The girl grinned and threw another handful above her head. Another tiny army of black sparrows formed in the air, beating their wings incessantly. Melinda did a quick head-count. A hundred and six, each one capable of turning a dream into a nightmare by entering the golden sand.

A hundred and six nightmares out of 2,100,263 sleeping people? Sounded fair enough.

"Go," She waved her hand, "And be sure to visit adults as well as children."

Her command was greeted with a chorus of high-pitched chirps. Then, the sparrows skirted into the air.

The corner of Melinda's mouth went up. Mission accomplished. One city down, over 25,000 to go.

She mounted Nyx and combed her mane, "C'mon, girl. Time waits for no one."

Nyx whinnied (in agreement?) and leapt into the sky.

* * *

For the rest of the night, Melinda spread nightmares using her birds. She found it got the job done at an unbelievably rapid rate (she knew the sparrows had entered dreams when one sparrow returned to her), and she didn't have to worry about being seen. Even if she was occasionally spotted, she had a snake's skull that covered three-quarters of her face and a hood that concealed her hair. She was as safe as can be.

Stopping only to snap shots of Paris, Berlin, and Rome, Melinda managed to fulfill her mission a couple of hours before daybreak. The only town left on her radar was Burgess.

Melinda hesitated as she wrapped the reins around her clawed, gloved hands. Why _did_ she always save Burgess for last? Did she enjoy going to larger, more lively locations more? Or was she simply cowering from her past? Whatever the reason, she always waited until there were no other places to visit.

She sighed to herself, pinching the bridge of her nose. Another habit she'd picked up from Pitch.  
"Melinda, you spineless coward." She muttered to herself, "Might as well get this over with."  
Blocking all thoughts from her consciousness, she yanked on the reins, "Yaah!" Nyx neighed and flew towards Burgess.

They arrived minutes later thanks to the Night Mare's unbeatable speed. Melinda stared at her feet as she used the last of her Nightmare Sand to send the sparrows on their journey. She couldn't look at this...this _ghost town_. Yes, it was still as alive and beating as a human heart, but everywhere she looked, she was haunted by a memory.  
The coffee shop, where she'd first tasted caffeine at seven.  
The bookstore, where she'd spent many delightful afternoons lost in a good book.  
The park, where she'd been engaged in many a snowball fight with Jamie and Jack.

The scars. They were being stretched. More pressure and they'd probably rip open.

Well, she'd have to avoid that. Swallowing hard, she made Nyx land on the first house she saw; it was just outside of town, which suited Melinda just fine. At least she'd be spared from actually _seeing_ the town. She wouldn't have to hear her former classmates' whimpers and ragged pants. She wouldn't have to watch her Nightmare Sparrows frollock into the homes she was familiar with, intending to turn the resident's dream into a nightmare.

Coward.

She quickly sent her birds on their way, studying her boots as their shrill cries faded. When they were finally gone, Melinda sighed and finally allowed herself to look up. All she had to do was wait for one sparrow to make it back.

_'Just a few minutes,'_ she told herself, _'Just a few minutes and it'll all be over.'_

A door creaked open below her. She gasped and retreated away from the edge, making sure nobody could see her. Nyx noticed her mistress's distress and neighed, but Melinda hushed her. She cocked her head, listening as a woman's voice muttered, "I'll get more flowers for you soon."  
Then, she whispered a prayer. Melinda listened, unable to turn a deaf ear. Even before becoming Pitch's apprentice, she'd never been a frequent flier in church. But the prayers had still sounded nice. Checking to make sure her skull mask was in place, Melinda inched closer to the edge. Finally, she allowed herself to look.

A woman that appeared to be in her fifties finished the prayer by crossing herself. Melinda frowned, peering closer. The woman felt...familiar, somehow. She was rather overweight, with skin of an earthy tone and a short stature. Her wavy hair looked like it might have been black once, but was now streaked with gray and white. Her face bore several lines, but Melinda could tell that she must've been beautiful once.

The woman sighed and retreated in the house, closing the door behind her.

Curiousity gripping her, Melinda began to descend to the ground. Nyx whinnied and took a mouthful of Melinda's cloak, but the girl ripped it back. "Don't get your knickers in a knot!" She hissed through clenched teeth, "I'm just gonna look. I'll be back up before the lady even notices." Nyx whinnied again, but this time, Melinda ignored her and hopped to the ground.

She eyed the wall. A long, elaborate prayer was carved into the wall, but it was written in such an old-styled English, Melinda could hardly understand it. At the bottom, the woman had placed a bouquet of deep blue and purple irises. Melinda couldn't help smile. Irises were her favorite flowers. What a coincedence.

When she checked the very bottom of the wall, though, Melinda felt as though someone had ripped her heart out.

Two little words stared at her.

_Lucy Rivera_

Melinda was so shocked she almost stumbled over her own feet. That prayer...it'd been a prayer for her. With a jolt, the girl realized who that woman must have been.

Her aunt Violet. After five years, she was still waiting for the neice that would never return.

Melinda felt something clog her throat, and hot, salty tears filled her eyes. She'd never even considered how her family would take her departure. She'd been so afraid of Marco telling them her secret...she'd never thought that they'd still care. By now, they must've thought that she was dead, or working in some town far away.

The guilt curled around her stomach like a frosted coil. She'd...she'd totally abandoned them. Melinda had been so convinced that, if her uncle and aunt had known of her role in her parents' demise, they'd have thrown her out like a broken glass. If she'd known how much her aunt had cared about her...and loved her...she might have stayed. She wouldn't have powers, a purpose, or a father right now. Or maybe she would have stopped by every now and then to see if her family needed medicine, money, anything at all.

For a second, Melinda was tempted to knock on the door and rekindle with her aunt. The two could embrace, laugh, and cry together. But how could she explain her outfit? The sand she now utilized? The Night Mare standing on the roof? How could she explain where she'd been - and what she'd been doing - for the past five years? It would be too much for Aunt Violet to take. Without wanting to, Melinda would shatter the woman's world. It was best to let her father's sister live out her last few years in peace.

Melinda broke into a run. She climbed up the wall and mounted Nyx, not caring if the little black sparrow hadn't returned yet. She kicked Nyx's sides hard enough to leave bruises, "Go. Go, dammit! GO!"

Nyx flew into the sky, taking her rider away from the people she'd hurt and the life she'd abandoned. The house shrank to the size of a button before disappearing in the trees.  
The Night Mare began its return to the Realm. Melinda cried brokenly in the horse's mane.

* * *

Pitch winced as pieces of his chest fell on the black sheets. With a frustrated growl, he threw the book across the room.

"Damn," He cursed under his breath, "I have tried nearly every incantation I own. If anything, it's merely made things worse!"

He looked at his body hatefully, almost wishing it wasn't his. Cracks covered his arms and chest, and his hands were nearly completely shattered. A couple of splinters were beginning to appear in his torso, too.

It really was happening. He'd chosen to ignore it for two years, but now he was looking at the damage head-on, and he despised what he was seeing. At this rate, he'd be dead by next fall.

Why, oh why did Tsar have to let this happen to him? Didn't that fool understand that fear protects, that it helps children more than toys and eggs and snow did? Or did he really believe that Pitch was deserving of this fate; to die in the shadows like a broken rag doll?

A sound that was neither a gasp or a sob made him stop. Slowly, Pitch turned around.

Melinda was standing there, her mask in her hands and drying tearstains on her cheeks. Her mouth was open in a silent scream as she took in the gruesome sight - the injuries he'd been hiding from her. More tears streamed down her face as she took in the wounds...and the promise that they brought.

That Pitch would die. The only person she had in the world was going to die.

Pitch knew it was futile, but he reached for her with a gloved hand, "Melin-"

The girl ran out of the room before he could get any closer. He could hear her wails throughout the Realm, as though the cave itself was crying.


	26. Chapter 25: Taken

**Okay, first I wanted to say: thanks for the reviews! Also, sorry about the slight error in the previous chapter. It should have read 'Chapter 24', not 'Chapter 23'. This is chapter 25. Just to avoid confusion. Enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter 25: Taken

Melinda didn't stop running until she was on the other side of the Realm, where Pitch wasn't likely to hear her. Once she was certain that there was a good amount of distance between them, Melinda let it all out. Her knees gave way under her. She howled like a banshee, her howls drenched in fear and sorrow. She pressed her palms against her forehead as her tears spilled down full-blast. The pain in her chest was so great she almost wished she had no heart. At least she'd be spared from this kind of affliction.

She couldn't believe it. Pitch was...was _dying_. He'd looked like some hundred-year-old vase. But why hadn't he said something? Why had she kept her in the dark?

Even as she asked this to herself, Melinda saw the answer. He hadn't wanted her to worry. But the realization just made her more frustrated. Hadn't _he_ been the one to say that a bitter truth was better than sweet lies? His entire job was based on truth. He showed people their greatest and deepest fears so that they could become stronger. But why had she been a different case? Had he thought her too weak to be able to cope?

Slowly, Melinda's sobs died. Her ragged pants returned to regular breaths, and she dried her cheeks with her black cloak. Using the cold, rough stone for support, she pulled herself up once more.  
An idea was forming in her mind. It was risky, but it was the only way. It could upset the balance and make the guardians act...but honestly, what did Melinda care? She wanted her father back.

She suddenly became aware of the mask in her grip. She looked down; the snake's empty sockets stared back at her almost expectantly. It was practically asking her, _'So, are we doing this or not?'_ Melinda licked her cracked lips and slowly brought the mask to her face. The moment it was on, it was as if Melinda had put on a new identity.

She wasn't just Melinda anymore. She was the Bringer of Nightmares.

* * *

_Three days later..._

"North! This'd betta' be good!" Bunnymund snapped as he adjusted the leather straps on his feet, "I only got four months 'til Easter!"  
"Trust me, is good." North's usually-jolly voice was gravely serious. He looked at his fellow guardians one by one, "Zee children...zey are being threatened again."

Nobody gasped, but everyone froze at whatever they were doing: Tooth actually stopped chattering to her mini-fairies, Sandy's gold airplane halted in mid-flight, Molly looked up from polishing her gun, and Jack paused in the action of freezing his eggnog.

Finally, the silence was shattered.

Molly gripped her iron gun tightly. Her voice was as hard as a steel knife, "Who?"

"I zink it is Pitch." North answered sullenly, "For look! At least ten percent of children have stopped believing!"

Everyone turned their attention to the enormous globe. While it would look normal to most onlookers, the guardians' eyes were trained to recognize even the tiniest difference. Indeed, the lights were still twinkling brightly, but at least one out of ten lights had died out.

"What..." Jack straightened, "What's going on here? Is Pitch back?"

"I don't think so." Tooth answered, "We haven't seen him since..." Her violet eyes darted to Molly, "...y'know."  
Molly winced and rubbed the spot where she'd been stabbed. Jack put a hand on his friend's shoulder before saying, "Yeah, now that you mentioned it, Pitch didn't seem too interested in gettin' back into action."

"But who else could this be?" Bunny retorted, "Kids don't just stop believin'! There's gotta be a reason! And that scum-suckin' ding bat's the only one who'd do this." He pulled out two boomerangs, "I say we go to that dag's place and choke him with his own sand! It's all he deserves!"

"Oh, sure, rabbit!" Molly said sarcastically, "Let's just go marching into enemy territory and let his Fearlings rip us to shreds! That'll definitely help the children, won't it?"

"Stuff it, sheila!" Bunny pointed a boomerang at her, "Yer still new here. Ya don't know what it's like, havin' that blighter buzzin' around in yer face like a gnat. Why don't we just swat him down already?"

"Enough!" North shouted, sound uncharacterically angry. Immediately, Molly and Bunny stopped arguing and looked at Father Christmas almost bashfully. North nodded at their silence before saying, "Ve do not know if zis is Pitch's doing yet. I say ve zend Sandy out dere to see."

Sandy frowned and formed a question mark over his head.

"You interact more vith zee children more zan us." North explained, "_Da_, I zee dem on Christmas and Jack on his snow days, but you give zem sweet dreams ev'ry night. You are perfect for zeeing who is tormenting zee children."

Even Bunny nodded at that, "Makes sense."

Sandy gave North a salute before waving his hands. A large cloud of glittering gold sand formed an inch from the ground. Sandy jumped on it and waved at his fellow guardians as it brought him to the humans.

Once the Sandman was gone, Jack turned to North, "Do you _really_ think he'll find out who it is?"

"Da," North looked at Jack with a soft, sad smile, "Ve must be hopeful, Jack. Without hope, ze world would be lost. Hmm?"

Jack hesitated before slowly nodding. His father-figure was right. They couldn't just wallow in despair. They had to believe that they could succeed. After all, that was the first step to victory: believing.

* * *

Melinda leaned against the fence of a backyard, panting and sweating. She pulled her mask off for a minute to dab her face. This was really starting to wear her down, and the five extra pounds of Nightmare Sand she'd stolen was beginning to run out. Plus, she was hungry, thirsty, and in desperate need of a shower. She was practically bathing in her own sweat!

But she couldn't give up. Not yet. She was doing so well.

Yes, that's right. She'd spent the last three days and three nights turning all dreams into nightmares. Melinda knew she was upsetting the balance; while a little fear was needed, too much of it made the whole world unravel. But deep down, she didn't really care about the consequences of her actions. She knew for a fact that fear acted as Pitch's nourishment. While she needed food and drink to live, her father depended on fear to be able to get up.

Ergo, the more fear that festered the air, the stronger he would be.

Melinda still couldn't rid herself of the image she'd seen. Of her father covered in ugly cracks, like a broken porcelain doll. It was like the picture had been stamped to the back of her eyelids. She had to swallow back a sob every time she thought about it.

She couldn't let Pitch die. He didn't deserve it. Even if the guardians wrote him off as some great evil spirit, he was so much more than that. They'd know that if they'd bothered to look underneath his scary smile and cold eyes. He was a man who bore many scars. He missed his daughter; a daughter who didn't even remember him. He was incredibly intelligent and learned. He was wise in his own way and didn't try to bite off more than he could chew. He could be stern, but he had a kinder, softer side. All he needed was a little attention and he bloomed.

Such a being didn't deserve to crumble away like some forgotten piece of pottery.

Wiping her eyes, Melinda slipped her mask back over her face. She still had around three-quarters of a pound left, and after that she'd be forced to go back to the Realm. Would her actions really make a difference, or would she only succeed in making Pitch furious?

Oh, well. Only one way to find out.

Melinda pulled out the list she'd been carrying. Three days ago, she'd stopped at an Internet café and written down every city, town, and village in America, Europe, and Australia. One by one, she'd crossed them out and infested each place with four times the number of nightmares as before. She'd only stop for a couple of hours to rest; she couldn't get too tired, but she couldn't slack off, either.

She crossed out _San Diego_.

Next stop: _St. Louis_.

She clicked her tongue, and Nyx walked towards her. Melinda sighed and stroked the Night Mare's snout. "I know, girl. You're tired. But think of Pitch." Nyx whinnied, but didn't pull away.  
Melinda reached into her pocket and pulled out what looked like a large white carrot. Nyx sniffed it hopefully. Melinda allowed herself the flicker of a smile, "Yeah, that's right._ Petroselinum_ root. Hemlock." She tossed it in the air, "Knock yourself out." Nyx chomped it down in two bites, neighing happily.

"Great. You're fed. Now let's go; we still got twenty-two cities to visit." Melinda adjusted her mask to make sure it wouldn't fall off and mounted Nyx.

She didn't notice the small, golden man watching her from the clouds.

* * *

A young man was curled up in a smelly, musky bed. His elbow was still covered in red dots, but otherwise he looked pacific. As his breathing evened, a sliver of golden sand entered his window and hovered above his head. It took on the shape of himself on a beach with a bunch of models serving him tropical drinks. His slacken face twisted in a perverted grin.

A dark figure stepped out of the shadows, a smirk on its pale, masked face. "Oh, what a charming dream." She whispered, "Leave it to a junkie to think of the impossible."  
Melinda was actually disgusted. What was the point in this guy drooling over something that could never happen?

Unfortunately, she didn't have enough Nightmare Sand to create black sparrows. She had just enough for one more nightmare. One more, then she'd take her leave.

Her black glove reached into the gourd...

A gold whipped curled around her wrist, burning her like a flame.

"Ow!" She yelped, whirling around, "What the...?"

The Sandman. He was looking at her like she was a rat in his kitchen. He tightened his grip on the whip, making her whimper. Melinda pulled out her dagger and tried to cut the whip, but it turned to gold once it touched the dream sand. She gasped and dropped the knife, where it clattered on the dirty floorboards. The young man shifted in his sleep, but thankfully he didn't wake up.

Melinda sighed. She couldn't get out of this. Sandman had to be the one to free her, and judging by his expression, that thought hadn't crossed his mind just yet.

"Please." She tried, "Let me go."

Sandman shook his head, and pictures formed above his head. Melinda saw herself passing several sleeping children. Every time she passed by a child, the kid started bawling. Melinda felt a tremor of shame, but she still kept her voice even, "Please. I'm not doing this because I want to."

Sandman's expression softened slightly. He tilted his head, wanting more of an explanation.

Melinda sighed again and, after pausing, tore the serpent skull from her face. Even though her face had paled and lengthened slightly, it was still pretty much the same as it had been before. The golden man recognized her instantly, proven by his widening eyes and loosening hold on the whip.

"If I don't do this," Melinda said softly, "My father will die. _Please_, let me go."

Sandman might have let her go, but Melinda never found out. The young man in the bed happened to open his eyes for a second...and spotted her.

"Hey!" He barked.

Melinda gasped and whirled around, her eyes wide with terror.

"Who the fuck are you?!" The man shouted, turning his lamp on. Melinda, of course, didn't answer. She bolted for the window, trying to make it back to Nyx. But the man tackled her, pinning her to the ground. Melinda struggled to squirm free, but this guy was a lot heavier than she'd have guessed. That, and he had an arm coiled around her neck, blocking the air. Sandman stood there helplessly. He'd finished his dream sand too, and if this guy didn't believe, Sandman was powerless.

"Who. Are. You?!" The guy pinned Melinda down, grabbed her by the hood, and turned her around.

Their eyes met, and it was like time stopped. Melinda hadn't noticed at first, but this guy had olive skin, and curly dark hair.

And chestnut eyes. Just like herself.

Marco cracked a smile, "Well, well, well. Hey, cuz."

Melinda punched him in the nose, making him cry out and loosen his hold. Melinda seized the chance to scramble out of the room and into a grimy corridor.

Before she could reach the stairs, though, another door swung open. A tall, hairy guy saw her and grabbed her by the elbow. Melinda tried to pry his fingers off, but it was no use. "Let go of me!" She shouted.

Ignoring her, the guy grabbed a handful of her hair and turned to Marco, "Who's this, M?"

"My little cousin. Remember, the murderer?" He asked, holding his bleeding nose. His eyes twinkled, "We're gonna have some fun, Cole."

Before Melinda could attack again, a hand pinched the back of her neck. Her eyes rolled back, and she fell in an unconscious heap in Cole's meaty arms.

Sandman flew off, his gold eyes wide with panic. He had to tell the guardians, fast!


	27. Chapter 26: Crimson Rain Part 1

Chapter 26: Crimson Rain Part 1

Pitch opened his eyes for the first time in three days. He hadn't intended to fall asleep; after Melinda had run off in tears, he'd sat down and pinched the bridge of his nose. He must've fallen asleep.

Either way, the Nightmare King never would've imagined what was waiting for him when he woke up.

For one thing, the aching hollowness that had come with his condition was...fading. Not exactly gone, but faded to a distant soreness. His body didn't feel as breakable, either.  
The Boogeyman opened his eyes just in time to see a crack in his shoulder seal up. Then, he'd turned to look at the rest of his body. By some miracle, most of the cracks vanished, leaving his pale gray skin as smooth as before.

"What...?" He slowly unraveled the black satin from his hand, which wasn't as flawless as before but still useable. "Just...what the devil happened?"

As if in response, a loud neighing noise pierced through the air like a knife. Pitch was so surprised he fell out of bed. Muttering a curse to himself, he pushed himself up as a small Night Mare rushed into the bedroom. Its gold eyes were frantic as it blurted out panicked whinnies. To anyone else, this chorus of sounds would have been meaningless, but the Nightmare King understood every word.

"What?!" He jumped to his feet, snatching his robe from the chair, "What do you mean, you've been gone all this time?! Why would Melinda..." He trailed off, "Oh, Lord, Melinda..." He entered a shadow in his room and was in the throne room a heartbeat later. He had to see this for himself.  
The small iron globe still taunted him with the millions of sparkling lights that didn't believe in him. But Pitch instantly detected a difference: at least a few had vanished from sight.

At least one out of ten children had stopped believing in the guardians. Now, they believed in fear.

In **_him_**.

"Melinda..." His voice, hoarse from the lack of use, was etched in horror, "What have you done?"

Just for a moment, Pitch was engulfed in wrath. His infuriated screams and orbs of Nightmare Sand proved it. Night Mares and Fearlings took the hint and scrambled out of the throne room, just barely avoiding getting hit and dying.

How could Melinda even consider doing something so absurd? Didn't she realize that there was supposed to be a balance between him and the guardians? Did she not comprehend that too much fear plunged the world into despair and hopelessness? Did she not understand that she'd arise the suspicion of the guardians? What on earth could have driven her to...?

Then, he stopped. Literally. His furious train of thought came to a screeching halt, and an orb glimmering violet-black light remained in his hands. Just for a moment, his thoughts went blank.  
He remembered the last thing he'd seen before taking an unintentional three-day slumber: Melinda standing in the doorway, staring at his wounds like they were the most horrible things she'd ever laid eyes upon.

Now, he understood. She didn't want him to die. She didn't want to lose the only family she had left.

Pitch sighed heavily, and the orb died in his hands. He rested his face in his hands, quiet groans escaping his lips. How could he stay angry at her? She'd made a mistake - there was no way around that - but at least it was understandable. Taking a deep breath, Pitch calmed down and turned to Nyx, the only Night Mare who'd chosen to stay.  
"You say you've been gone for three days." Pitch said calmly, "Where is Melinda?"

Before the creature could answer, though, the radio crackled with life.

Yes, the radio. Since Melinda and Pitch had picked Winter Solstice (the longest night of the year) as Pitch's birthday, the girl had taken the liberty to buy him a radio. Why? So he could stay in tune with the human world. She used it as well; besides their expeditions, this radio was the only proof that a world existed outside these cave walls.

For a second, a pop song that'd been a big hit a few years ago echoed through the Realm. Then, a male voice reported, "Latest news from St. Louis: a mysterious figure wearing some kind of skull has been spotted throughout the city and several neighboring towns." Pitch's eyes slowly widened as he took the radio in his hands. The voice continued, "The police are beginning to worry that this personage could be a danger to the public, so we strongly advise you to report any unusal behavior, no matter how slight. Thank you."

Pitch crushed the radio in his hands as though it were paper.

* * *

The Boogeyman glided through the streets of St. Louis like a snake. It helped that most of the people went right through him like ghosts.

Or rather, he went through them. He was still non-existent to many.

And for some reason, it didn't bother him as much as it normally did. Not tonight.

Pitch had already sent out a dozen Night Mares in the city, ordering them to bring back Melinda no matter what it took. He was certain that once he saw her, he would slap her, then embrace her.

Oh, human emotion. Aren't thou a bitch.

A man rammed into him, sending him stumbling onto the street. "Hey, watch it!" The guy shouted before resuming his path.

The Boogeyman opened his mouth to retort...and stopped.

Had this man..._seen_ him? And felt him? Of course he had; there was no way he would've yelled if he'd been ignorant of Pitch's presence.

Wow. Melinda's work had proven more effective than he'd anticipated. Because of the nightmares she'd caused, people believed in fear more than in eggs and snow and quarters.  
This could prove to be useful to Pitch, maybe even vital.

He spun around and reached the man who'd bumped into him in seconds. He grabbed the man by the collar and slammed him into the wall. A couple of people stopped to stare. To them, a man was pinning himself to the wall. How was that ordinary or common?

Now, the man finally saw Pitch in the face. He got a good look at this mysterious man's sharp teeth, unhealthy gray skin, and gleaming golden eyes. His own eyes widened in fear. The Boogeyman had to bit his lips to keep from smiling. This man's intimidation was overwhelming him, like the smell of freshly-baked bread. The fear supplied Pitch with more energy, and a lot more confidence.

"Take whatever you want." The man whimpered, "Just don't hurt me!"

"At ease, coward." Pitch said soothingly, "I only require a piece of information."

"What information? The strip club's two blocks from here!"

Pitch paused in the motion of pulling something out of his robe pockets. He grimaced at the man, "Why on earth would I be interested in something like that?" He plucked out a photo and held it in front of the man's face, "Have you seen a girl around? She looks like this?"

The man eyed the photograph. It showed this weird man in the company of a teenage girl. They were in Istanbul, right in front of the Golden Horn. They were both dressed in embroidered robes, and their arms were loaded with souvenirs. The girl was grinning from ear to ear, and her large chestnut eyes reflected the street lights. She had elbow-long russet hair kept in a long braid, and a terrifying black dragon necklace rested on her collarbone.

Wait. He'd seen her before. Was she...?

Marco Rivera. The name appeared in the man's mind just like that. The two looked too much alike for it to be coincedence.

"L-look, I'm sorry, pal." The man slid out of Pitch's grasp, "But I gotta get to the bus stop or I'll miss my-"

Pitch grabbed his wrist. The man could sense spectacular strength in those fingers, yet Pitch tried to control himself. He'd seen that flicker of recognition in the man's eyes.

In a very soft voice, Pitch asked, "Do you have children, sir?"

"Why, yes I do." The man answered honestly, "I have two young boys."

"And what would you do if one of them went missing?"

The man locked eyes with Pitch for a minute before looking at the photo in his pale gray hand. Finally, he replied, "Probably the same thing you're doing right now."

The tiniest of smiles appeared on Pitch's face. "Thank you." His grip loosened but didn't let go, "Now. Where is she? And don't tell me you don't know."

The man sighed, "I think I know a relative of hers. Maybe her brother, cousin, I don't know. Name's Marco Rivera. He's around 23 or 24, but he's just about done every drug on the market. I know, I..." His head hung in shame, "I sold him some heroin once."  
Ah. No wonder he could see Pitch. He lived in fear all the time - fear of getting caught selling drugs, for example. Fear of not getting paid. Fear of ending up with a body on his hands.

Pitch's hold on the man tightened. The man yelped and tried in vain to free himself.

The Boogeyman asked in an icy voice, "Do you know where Marco Rivera is?"

"I think, unless he's changed apartments." The man answered.

Pitch let go of him, "Show me. And don't try to get away; I **_will_** catch you."


	28. Chapter 27: Crimson Rain Part 2

Chapter 27: Crimson Rain Part 2

The Pole was deathly quiet as the five guardians waited for Sandy to return. Jack and Molly played poker (using cookies as poker chips), Bunny painted some eggs, North had been trying to continue with his toy-making, and Tooth spent her time organizing the teeth in her possession.

While none of them were going to admit it, they were anxious to know what had happened. If Pitch wasn't responsible for this, then who was? And for what reason would anyone make a child stop believing? It had to be an immortal; despite their different points of view, the guardians agreed on that one. There was no way all these children could stop believing at the same time thanks to a human. And all across the globe, no less!

Their unspoken thoughts were cut off by a faint engine. Everyone looked up from whatever they'd been doing to see a small gold airplane fly around the globe. "Finally." Molly muttered as the golden little man exited the plane. "Sandy," North greeted his friend as he got closer to the ground, "Vhat did you find out?"

Sandy gulped and began using his dream sand to paint images above his head. Molly and Jack shared a look as their friend continued to spew pictures at an impossible rate. Bunny, Tooth, and North, however, were accustomed to the Sandman's speech patterns. They were looking at each other with wide, concerned eyes.

"What?" Molly asked, "Don't keep us in the dark. What's going on?"

"Uh, guys," Tooth flew over the two teenagers, "Sandy says a teenage girl was doing it."

"A tee- you're joking." Jack looked at Sandy, "You're joking, right?"

Sandy shook his head.

"But that's impossible!" Jack protested, "How can a teenager use black sand? It doesn't make any sense."

"...Oh, God." The color drained from Molly's face, "It makes sense all right."

Bunny scratched his ear, "Yer gonna hafta be more specific, sheila."

Molly looked up and met her fellow guardians' eyes. Her own eyes were dark with shame. "Remember that girl I shot a few years ago? The one who..." She gestured to her shoulder. Everyone nodded; Jack tightened his grip on his staff. He hadn't forgotten how that kid had thrown him out the window.  
"Pitch said that girl was his apprentice." Molly continued, "What if...?"

"What? She took his place already?" Tooth finished for her. She shook her head, "No, Molly. If Pitch had died, we would've known, even if his power was passed to another."

Molly arched a brow. "How?"

Bunny chuckled, "It's somethin' in Pitch's presence, mate. Ever feel like somebody's behind ya in an empty room?"  
"Yeah." Molly nodded.  
"That's Pitch." Bunny ratified, "Even if some bugger takes his place, they wouldn't have that...that _feel_ to 'em. Know what I mean?"

"Yeah, I guess." Molly nodded again, "But I still say that girl's responsible."

Sandy nodded in confirmation. More images appeared above his head. Tooth gasped before translating for the two younger guardians. "Sandy says he couldn't see her well in the face since it was dark. But that girl's in danger; apparently, her cousin has her. And it's going to get messy."

"Aw, Tooth..." Bunny ran a paw over his ears (though the action did little to ease his distress), "Ya know we don't work like that. We can't go buttin' into humans' business."

"But," North spoke up, "It is in our best interest."

Jack frowned, leaning against his staff, "How come?"

Molly scoffed, "Use your head, man. If we save that girl and drag her back here, we can get her to stop what she's doing."

"And it's the right thing to do." Tooth chimed in.

"Right. That, too."

"Epic!" North rubbed his hands together, "Vee shall send three to save zee girl: three is zee perfect number, after all."

"I'll go." Molly spoke up immediately, pulling out her gun.

"Very vell." North nodded, "Bunny, Jack. You vill accompany her."

Bunny looked at his ally as though he'd just announced Easter had been cancelled. Jack, however, whooped with joy and punched the air, "Hell yeah! I'm lookin' forward to this!"

* * *

"This is so. Freaking. _Lame_." Jack grumbled as he crept through the tree branches like some sort of monkey. Just out of boredom, he froze a dove as it flew by.

"Hey! It's the best path!" Molly hissed, "Sandy couldn't even remember where the building was. We might as well check every one."

"Sheila's got a point, mate." Bunny smirked, "I'll check da north and south. Frostbite, the east is all yours. Molly, yer takin' the west."

"Fine."

"Okay."

With a quick 'break!', the trio split up, each taking their respective sides of St. Louis.

* * *

"Gaah! Ya!"

"You can do better than that!" Marco snapped, "Now, **_scream!_**" He kicked Melinda in the ribs so hard he felt some of them crack.  
Nice.  
Melinda's eyes widened as a gurgled whimper escaped her. Blood trickled from her lips. This had been going on for hours, and she didn't know what to do: she'd used up all her Nightmare Sand giving people nightmares, Marco's friend (Cole) had stolen her necklace, and it was two against one. Not to mention both of her opponents were extremely strong and weren't afraid to play dirty. Under her clothes, she already had a number of blackening bruises on her legs, arms, and back. A fair number of scratches were visible, too.

These injuries weren't too serious. But that didn't mean it wasn't going to get worse.

"W..." She swallowed hard before rasping, "Why?"

Marco scoffed, "You know why, bitch. Because of you, my whole life went down the fucking tubes. It's not enough that we moved to that little boring-ass town just so Mom could take care of you. It's not enough that my own parents treated you like a daughter and swept me under the rug. You had to run away, too. You practically turned my mom into a hermit." He pulled out his pocket knife, making Melinda tremble, "So, think of this as...comuppance. Why should you walk away when you've ruined so many lives? Mine, my mom's...your parents'?"

Melinda screamed, "Shut up! You're no better; instead of helping your mom, you're sitting here doing drugs!"  
Marco went extremely still, his eyes focused on her face.

She didn't even see the slash. Just a silvery blur, then pain exploded in her right eye. It was like someone had jammed a needle right through it. Melinda shrieked in agony as blood streamed down her cheek. She slammed a hand over her eye, desperately trying to smother the bleeding.

"Be quiet, bitch." Marco commanded coldly, "That's not how a servant speaks to her master." He turned to Cole, "C? She's all yours."

"Finally!" Cole shouted, "Hope you didn't hurt her too bad; I wanna enjoy this."

"Relax," Marco soothed, "She's good to go." He patted his cousin, who was wheezing in a heap on the floor, in a small puddle of her own blood. Completely void of emotions, he tucked the knife back in his pocket and headed into the living room. Cole grinned, "All right!"

He loomed over Melinda, "This'll be awesome, trust me."

Melinda, despite the state she was in, managed to spit on Cole's shoe. He smacked her without even thinking about it. The girl cried out, using both hands to avoid falling. Cole seized his chance to grab her cloak.  
She tensed, "You wouldn't dare."

Cole snickered, "Really?" He ripped her cloak clean off, revealing the skull-patterned shirt and black tights she had underneath. He grimaced slightly, "A little on the thin side, arent'cha? I like my women with curve and bounce, if ya know what I mean."

Melinda's eyes (well, eye) narrowed dangerously, "This is your last warning: back off."

"Or what?" Cole countered, "You're gonna kill me?"

"I might."

Cole blinked, then threw his head back. His crude laughter echoed through the small apartment, "Good one, babe. You know what I think?" He pulled out a dog collar with a long silver chain. He slipped it around Melinda's neck, narrowly missing being bit, "I think you're just gonna lie there like the little bitch you are."

He leaned forward. His hand slipped under her shirt, right over her chest.

Melinda's pupils dialated.

* * *

Bunny leaned against the rooftop, glancing around the area. He'd covered the south and most of the north of St. Louis. So far, no dice. The only thing that remained was some large but trashy apartment building.

He clicked on his walkie-talkie, "Come in Papa Bear to Mama Bear."

Jack's voice came through, "Why do _I_ have to be Mama Bear?"

"Easter Sunday of '68, mate. Seems like the least you can do." Bunny reminded him, "Anyway, I ain't found nothin'. I just gotta check this heap o' garbage in front of me, and I'll be done."

"Okay." Jack replied, "Nothing here, either. I checked high and low for that chick, but without a great description, it's looking for a needle in a haystack."

"True that." Bunny answered, "How 'bout Molly? She find anything?"

"Zip. Zilch. Nada. Nothing." Jack sighed, "This girl better be worth it. I'd been so looking forward to a hot chocolate tonight!"

"Yeah, me too." Bunny sighed, "Well, might as well keep lookin'. That girl ain't gonna turn herself in."

"Right. Call me or Molly if you find her, okay?"

"Fine. You, too."

"Bye."

_Click!_

Just as Bunnymund was putting the walkie-talkie away, an explosion went off loud enough to wake the dead.

_BOOOOOOM!_

Bunny was so surprised at the noise he fell on his back. It only took him a second to find where the commotion was coming from. His heart pounded against his ribs like a frightened bird.

The building in front of him - the only one he hadn't checked yet - exploded like a firework. Black sand, concrete, and glass rained down on the citizens of St. Louis, causing a chorus of panicked screams and hollers to begin below. What looked like a river of ketchup splashed down as well.

Something landed an inch from Bunny's large foot. For a second, he hoped it was a doll or something.

It was no doll. It was a muscular arm, severed at the shoulder.

Bunny slapped a paw over his mouth and vomited, his eyes wide with disbelief. When his stomach was finally empty, the guardian of hope looked up to see the building. Well, what was left of it, anyway.

Over half of the building had been completely demolished. Thick black smoke climbed into the nighttime sky, and even from a distance, Bunny could see several corpses scattered across the broken floor.

As the smoke slowly cleared, he saw a lone figure standing alone. His eyes slowly widened, and his mouth opened; but no scream came out.

A girl was standing amongst the destruction, parts of her clothes on fire as well. Her wavy, russet hair flowed behind her like a flag. She stood there, eerily calm despite her surroundings.  
She was holding a young man's head by the hair.

That's when it finally sunk in. Bunny had found the culprit, the bringer of the wave of fear they'd been seeing.

And in that moment, Bunny had never felt so afraid.

As if sensing his presence, the girl slowly turned and met his eyes. One of her eyes was bleeding badly, which made Bunny wonder if she could still see with it. Her face was splattered with blood, but for some reason, Bunny found it...oddly familiar.

The girl held his gaze for about a minute. Then, she did something he never would've expected.

She closed her eyes and grinned, "_**Kssh**_."

Then, her smile died, and she fell in an unconscious pile on the ground. Bunny didn't need a second invitation; he pulled out his walkie-talkie and raced away, not daring to look back.  
If only he'd stayed a few moments longer.

* * *

A person appeared before the girl, its shadow looming over her.  
Pitch Black scanned his apprentice's body for a few minutes, feeling shock come at him in waves. He took in every drop of blood, every bruise, and every burn.

"My little light..." He whispered softly, "What have they done to you?"

He scooped the girl into his strong arms and carried her back to the Realm.


	29. Chapter 28: Reunion

Chapter 28: Reunion

The pain greeted Melinda the moment she opened her eyes.

Her entire body felt stiff, like someone had replaced her limbs with plywood. Every time she moved, a hot spasm of pain shot through her body. As she slowly but surely sat up in her bed, she examined her physical state.  
It was fair to say that it wasn't well.

She had a few bandages here and there, but her exposed arms and legs were purple and black with bruises. Without wanting to, she remembered how she'd gotten such injuries.  
Melinda closed her eyes as the waterworks turned on...and realized that tears were only coming down on one side of her face.

Fearfully, she brought her hand to the dry side of her visage. A thick bandage was there, but she couldn't feel...anything underneath it. She could feel the eyeball, but she couldn't make it move. It was like having a marble in her socket. How had this happened?  
Just like that, the memory hit her. She remembered a silvery flash, then pain...so much pain...

Melinda dropped her hand as a shaky sigh escaped her lips. Great. Now she was half-blind. More tears found their way in her remaining eye.

"Good evening."

Melinda looked up to see Pitch standing before her bed, a steaming black mug (with the purple word 'Poison' on it) in his pale gray hands. The girl's face broke into a huge smile, "Dad!"

Pitch returned her ecstatic smile with a smaller one. He'd missed that word.

"Hello, my little light." He placed the mug on Melinda's bedstand and sat down beside her, "How are you-"

Melinda wrapped her arms around Pitch, burying her face in his chest. Unable to hold it in for another minute, she started sobbing. The memories of her kidnapping and abuse came back, as real and agonizing as ever. She just wanted to forget it all and be here, in her father's arms. She needed comfort.

Pitch froze the moment she trapped him in an embrace. He'd expected her to be glad upon awakening, but not **_this_ **happy. Besides, he still wasn't too used to hugs. After the shock passed, though, he returned the cuddle. He held onto her tightly, gently rocking her from side to side. He could feel her radiating fear, but after a few minutes, it died down to a vague discomfort.

The Boogeyman pulled away with a sigh and cupped Melinda's face, looking into her eye, "Just what were you playing at?"

Melinda's eye widened, and she looked away shamefully. She knew perfectly well what he was talking about: her upsetting the balance. "I..." She swallowed hard and forced herself to meet her mentor's gaze, "I don't want you to die."

Those words had a lukewarm effect on Pitch. He felt a small rush of warmth fill his non-beating heart; it made his annoyance vanish like March snow. He tucked some tangled locks behind Melinda's ear, "My dear, words cannot express how moved I am that you care so much. But you cannot stop the inevitable. Everything that has a beginning _must_ have an end. Me, the Man in the Moon, even the earth. Do you understand?"

Melinda looked like Pitch had stabbed her in the chest, but she still swallowed hard and nodded, "Y...yes."

"Good." Pitch glanced at her bandaged eye and pulled away, "While most of your wounds are minor, I'm afraid that I was unable to save your eye."  
Melinda nodded. She'd figured as much.  
"Who did this to you?" Pitch asked softly, "I will give them nightmares for the rest of their lives."

Melinda chuckled humorlessly, "I don't think your nightmares can affect the dead, Dad."

Pitch paused, his eyes widening, "You...**_killed_** them?"

"One of them t...tried to...r-r-rape m-me..." Melinda could hardly get the words out, "A-and...I don't know. I j-just...lost control."

Pitch said nothing. He could only stare at his adoptive daughter with wide eyes. The girl saw her mentor's expression and hung her head, "I'll pack my bags."

"Whatever are you talking about?"

"I killed two men, maybe more." Melinda stated, glancing up, "I broke the rules. I'm a murderer. You probably don't want a murderer in your house."

"I disapprove of what you did." Pitch said sternly, "You took lives that weren't yours to take, and you upset the balance between the guardians and I."

"I know." Came the whispered reply. Melinda hung her head again.

"But..." Long fingers curled around her chin and forced her to meet his eyes. "You're _my_ daughter, Melinda. _Mine_. While I am disappointed in what you've done, I would never make you leave. Murderer or not, you're still my child, and I wouldn't abandon you."

Melinda's eye widened. Clearly, she hadn't been expecting something so...emotional. Even though Pitch wasn't exactly cold (at least towards her), he never openly expressed his feelings like this.  
Was he really ready to wipe the slate clean, even after she took lives? Even after she aroused the guardians' suspicion?

Something else stuck to Melinda.

He'd finally called her his daughter. He'd never done so before; he'd always responded when she called him 'Dad', but he'd never accepted her as his child before.

"Dad..." Melinda hugged him again, "I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry..."

"I know, dear. I know." Pitch returned the hug, working out the knots in the girl's hair.  
Little did Melinda know that her father was lightly probing her mind, looking through her memories. He needed to know if she'd been seen.

Ah, yes. She _had_. That rabbit had seen her.

Well, that was alright. All Pitch had to do was send Bunnymund a nightmare, and the rabbit would wake up convinced that it'd all been a dream.

The guardians would remain ignorant of Melinda's existence, Pitch would make sure of it. They'd already taken everything from him: his power, his believers, and most of his dignity. Tooth had even taken one of his teeth!

He wouldn't let them take away the only good thing that had happened to him in 300 years.


	30. Chapter 29: The Moon's Influence

Chapter 29: The Moon's Influence

18-year-old Lucy hesitated for the first time since lunch. She put down her fountain pen and brought her hand to her eyepatch. She'd been wearing it for three years; she'd even combed some of her hair over her eye to avoid drawing too much attention to the eyepatch. Funny; it had never really bothered her...until now. When she'd remembered what had made her half-blind.

Lucy's good eye became glassy with tears, but she quickly wiped it with her sleeve. "Oh, come on now, girl." She lectured herself, "You have until the moon reaches the center of the sky. You can't start wallowing in self-pity. You got stuff to write."

Sweeping her emotions under the rug, Lucy took the fountain pen in her hand once again and resumed documenting her past:

_I was so relieved when Dad told me he'd solved the guardian problem. That egg-painting rabbit had seen me, but Dad had sent him a nightmare to make him think he'd dreamt it. Our secret was still safe. _

_I never pulled another stunt like that. It upset the balance, cost me my right eye, and made Dad mad with worry. Even if it made him stronger, I never spread more fear than necessary. _

_But you can all imagine what happened. When the fresh wave of fear died down, Dad's strength went downhill, too. The cracks appeared on his body again, though I'm relieved to say that they weren't as many as before. I never showed my fear of losing him and did my best to continue my studies, but I'm 100% certain that he knew what I was feeling. I was practically a whirlwind of emotion._

_Another two years passed, and nothing really happened. I had finally learned all there was to know about Nightmare Sand, and like Dad, I'd learned to manipulate the Realm. It was pretty useful when I couldn't remember where something was: all I had to do was want it, and the room would appear in front of me. Dad said that in one more year, I'd be ready to assume his role._

_Unfortunately, the moon didn't agree._

* * *

Melinda Black whimpered as she tossed and turned in her bed. Her ankle-long black nightgown clung to her like a second, sweaty skin. She was clutching her pillow in a white-knuckled grip, and tears streamed down her face.

_She dreamed of being alone in a wide, dark void. Frowning, she looked around, straining her eyes to see. "Hello?" She called, "Is someone there?"_

_"Yes."_

_Melinda jumped two feet in the air. Slamming a hand over her pounding heart, she demanded, "Who's that?"_

_"Tsar Lunar. The Man in the Moon, as humans know me."_

_Melinda's fear instantly morphed into anger. So, she was finally face-to-face with the one who'd driven Pitch into the shadows. It'd been MiM who created the guardians, chasing away Pitch's fear with their wonder, hope, happy memories, and sweet dreams. It was because of MiM that everyone had written Pitch off as a nightmare._

_It was because of him that her father was dying._

_Melinda pulled out her black dagger. She always slept with it, in case the guardians decided to pay them a visit. "Show yourself!" She yelled, "So I can stab your eyes out!"_

_"Very well."_

_A figure appeared before her, illuminating the abyss. Melinda winced and covered her eyes, waiting for the light to dim. When it finally did, she looked at the person. It was a man, perhaps in his thirties, with skin as white as the natural satellite he resided in. He was dressed in a cape and suit the color of butter, with a red bow tie and a polished cane. He glowed softly in the darkness, like a star. Like Sandman, he had a round, cheerful face, but right now, he regarded her with eyes as black and concealing as a starless night._

_This couldn't just be a dream. It was a message. There was no way Melinda could have thought this up on her own, especially the day after her seventeenth birthday._

_She tightened her grip on her knife, "What do you want?"_

_"I want you to back down from your role as Pitch's apprentice." Tsar replied, jumping right to the point._

_Melinda was so surprised she almost dropped her dagger. "What?! Are you mad?! This is what I was born to do."_

_"No, it's not." Tsar countered simply, "You are not suited for this part in the balance. Pitch gives people nightmares to help them confront their fears, grow stronger, and learn to deal with the dangers of life within their bedroom walls. He does this simply because it's his job. Emotionally, there is nothing there. You, on the other hand," He pointed to her, "have abused your power. You upset the balance by spreading too much fear, sent three teenagers into a state of shock, and murdered your own cousin."_

_"He tried to rape me!" Melinda screeched, "Look at what he did to my eye!" She lowered her knife and pushed her locks away from the right side of her face. Her eye had an ugly vertical scar, and the pupil and iris had gone white._

_Tsar, however, was unruffled by the sight. "And for that, he deserved to die."_

_"He got what he deserved." Melinda hissed, pushing her hair back over her blind eye, "He did drugs, blackmailed me, punched me, abandoned my aunt, and tried to rape and possibly mutilate me. Does anyone like that deserve to live?!" Her voice grew louder with each word, and her hands shook._

_Tsar's gaze softened slightly, "Lucy Rivera-"_

_"Don't call me that!" Melinda snapped, "Lucy Rivera died a long time ago! It's Melinda Black now!"_

_"No." Tsar shook his head, taking a step towards her, "Melinda Black doesn't exist. Lucy Rivera is the name you were given at birth, and it is still yours."_

_Melinda screamed with rage and lunged forward, her knife raised. When she slashed at Tsar, however, he vanished like fog._

_"H-huh?" Melinda looked around, trying to spot the oldest guardian._

_"You have lost sight of what's important." Tsar's voice stated behind her._

_Melinda yelped and spun around. The man met her eyes calmly, "You have allowed the loss of your parents to consume you."_

_"That's bullshit!"_

_ "No, it's the truth." Tsar responded, "Because you became an orphan, you decided to turn your back on everything: the guardians, your friends, and your family." He shook his head, "No, Lucy. You weren't born to do this."_

_"Oh, and why're you saying this now?!" Melinda laughed coldly, "Why now, after seven years?!"_

_"I was hoping you would change your mind." Tsar answered, "Or that you would assume Pitch's role well. I am perfectly alright with him taking an apprentice...but only if they have what it takes."_

_"Well, sorry to disappoint you," Melinda didn't sound sorry in the slightest, "But I'm not leaving Pitch. Not now. Not ever."_

_With that, she turned her back on the Man in the Moon and marched into the darkness, away from Tsar's luminescence._

_Tsar watched her go, shaking his head. "I'm sorry," He said, "I didn't want to resort to this, but you leave me no choice. I wanted to see if you could see reason, but apparently you can't."_

* * *

Melinda shot up in her bed, panting and sweating. Without thinking, she leapt out of bed and skidded out of the room and through the twisting hallways. She ran like a rabbit escaping a fox. Even if all seemed well, she could still feel it. She could still feel him watching her from the sky. Fear pulsed through her veins, and her heart banged against her ribs.

Melinda didn't stop until she reached Pitch's room. Her fear must've been powerful, for her father was awake before she entered the bedroom. Pitch looked almost irritated for a moment, but when he saw Melinda's pale, sweaty face and trembling frame, his face creased in concern.

He sat up in his bed. Melinda tried to ignore the cracks that had begun to appear in her father's skin again. They'd begun to show on his neck and face as well. Pitch asked, "Darling, what is it?"

Melinda opened her mouth to speak...then burst into tears.

She hated herself for being so weak, but she couldn't help it. That goddamn Man in the Moon had ripped open all of her scars. The pain of losing her parents...that night in St. Louis...that Halloween in the swamp...it had all come back to her at once. The agony was almost too much for her to bear. It felt like all the affliction she'd felt in those events had slammed back into her, fresh as ever. She almost wished she had no heart at this point: at least she'd be spared from this kind of torment.

Pitch did the only thing he could thing of doing. He climbed out of bed and held her close, stroking her hair as she sobbed in his chest. The Boogeyman honestly had no idea what to do, and seeing his daughter like this was killing him. In all the years she'd been with him, she'd never gotten this upset. What bothered him the most was seeing her cry her heart out and not knowing how to help.

Finally, after ten minutes, Melinda's wails turned to hiccups. Pitch took her chin and forced her to meet his eyes, "Dear, what happened? Did one of my Night Mares vex your dreams?"

"N-no..." Melinda burrowed herself deeper in Pitch's embrace, "Dad, please. Take the moon and throw it in the ocean."

"Alas, my little light. I can do many things, but I can't perform such an impossible task." He looked at her critically, "Did the Man in the Moon do this to you?"

"Yes!" Melinda cried, like admitting it would give her relief, "He said I couldn't be your apprentice, that I wasn't fit for it. He said he was gonna...do something." She trembled like a leaf, "Dad, he made me think of...everything! Everything I've been trying to forget! It hurts, it hurts so much..."

"Shh, shh..." Pitch rocked his daughter from side to side. He didn't know what else to do. He normally sent people into this state; he wasn't much of an expert on helping them out of it. Despite his seemingly comforting attitude, though, he was burning with rage. Damn Tsar Lunar! Why couldn't he just bloody leave things alone? Why did he always have to interfere with things? What gave him the right to act like God?

Melinda calmed down a little. She exhaled shakily and whispered, "D-Dad?"

Pitch looked down at her, "Yes, my little light?"

Melinda sniffed, "Can I stay with you for the rest of the day?"

Pitch smiled softly, "Of course."

Melinda smiled weakly in return. Keeping an arm latched around the girl, Pitch climbed back in the bed. Melinda crawled in after him, holding her arm like a drowning man clutching a life preserver. The two of them sat in silence for a few minutes. Then, Melinda asked, "Dad?"

"Yes?"

"The Man in the Moon's not gonna take me away, is he?"

Pitch froze at the question. He really didn't know what to respond. MiM was more powerful than the Boogeyman could ever be. MiM was by far the strongest and oldest guardian of them all. With a wiggle of his finger, he'd brought Jack Frost back from his watery grave and granted him unmeasurable power. Pitch knew that MiM was more than capable of changing the tides of destiny, especially when it came to children. Melinda may not have been a child, but she was well within MiM's power.

But how could he tell her that? He didn't want to admit it to himself.

Pitch turned around so that he was looking directly into Melinda's eye. "I will never let that happen, Melinda." He spoke with utter determination, "Do you understand me? Never."

Melinda still looked frightened, but she nodded. Pitch nodded in reply and held her close. The two fell asleep a few moments later.

Little did they know that Tsar Lunar had a plan. One that would change Melinda's path for good.


	31. Chapter 30: Winds of Change

**Thank you guys! Over 100 reviews! Woop woop!  
**

**(Sorry this is a little short; I only had time to type this evening. Hope you like!)  
**

Chapter 30: Winds of Change

_For the next six days, nothing happened. Dad and I were super tense, though. You know that feeling you get when you think someone's watching you from the shadows? Like you're all by yourself...but not alone? Well, that's how I felt. Tsar's message had been painfully clear, even if he didn't actually say it. Something was gonna happen. Even if it wasn't instantaneous, it sure as hell was going to happen._

_Or at least, that's what he thought. 'Cuz there was no way I was leaving the Realm. It was my home now._

_Dad and I ampted up security: Hellhounds kept an eye on every entrance and window, Night Mares and my Sparrows spread fear in our stead so the guardians couldn't get us outside, and we'd reviewed self-defence moves. We were as ready as ever for an attack._

_Little did we know that the moon didn't work like that._

* * *

Tsar shook his head sadly. He was assertive that Melinda hated him now. And Pitch...well, their friendship had come to a crashing end when Tsar created the guardians. Pitch had taken it as an utter betrayal, and he'd stayed in the shadows ever since. If anything, if Pitch had despised him before, he was out for his head now.

That was sort of understandable from the Boogeyman's point of view. He surely thought that Tsar was trying to take away his family and cast him back into the darkness.  
He just refused to understand.

Tsar wasn't doing this because he _wanted_ to; he was doing it because he _had_ to, for the good of the children. The guardians and Pitch were the ying and yang of childhood, if you will. Together, they provided all the things, good and bad, that made up the first few years of a child's life. You can't have one without the other. There had to be a balance.

Granted, Pitch's time was running out, but Tsar wouldn't have let fear die; he would've found another Boogeyman, or allowed Pitch to select his successor. Of course, no substitute could hold a candle to the original, but that was the way of things. Sooner or later, immortals fade when whatever they protect, be it sweet dreams or a tree, dies. The guardians had simply lasted longer because it was easier to write off bad dreams than it was for toys or candy eggs.

A successor was in order.

But not this one. Melinda was too temperamental; she allowed her emotions to get the better of her, and Tsar was sure that she would try to crush the guardians like ants once she had enough power. She hated them for not helping her parents avoid death, or helping her in her times of sorrow. She just didn't comprehend that things weren't that simple. The guardians couldn't play such a big role in a child's life.

Well, now she would understand. She would come to see the other side of the coin. And she would take back what she'd lost, with the moon's help. Even if it meant her...giving up the name 'Melinda Black', even if for a little while.

But how to get her out of the lair?

Thunder rumbled in the distance, interrupting Tsar's train of thought. He blinked in suprise...then smiled.

* * *

"_Take this kiss upon the brow!_  
_And, in parting from you now,_  
_Thus much let me avow-_  
_You are not wrong, who deem_  
_That my days have been a dream._"

Melinda recited one of her favorite poems, 'A Dream Within A Dream', as she walked through the obsidian halls, her dagger in her hands. Her voice, bouncing off the cave walls, was her companion in sentry duty.

"_Yet if hope has flown away_  
_In a night, or in a day,_  
_In a vision, or in none,_  
_Is it therefore the less gone?_"

She loved quoting Edgar Allen Poe, especially while she worked. It helped make her assignments more interesting, and it helped relax her when she was tense.

Like now, for instance.

Melinda knew she could handle the Tooth Fairy. That birdbrain (ha!) didn't even have a weapon, and Bunnymund would be out of game soon enough as well. But what about Sandman? Pitch had told her of how Sandy had tossed him around like a rag doll using his sand-whips. And North with his wicked-sharp twin swords? She'd definitely have trouble dodging those, never mind hitting their wielder.

And...Jack? Would she really be able to fight him?

She slowed down before stopping her walk altogether, the last of her poem echoing around her. Melinda stood for a moment, staring at her black combat boots without really seeing them. After a moment, she lifted her hand to her face.

The ice bracelet Jack had given her so long ago was still there, fastened snugly around her wrist. The charms caught the dim light, twinkling like stars at midnight. Melinda found herself smiling weakly at the frozen figures: the ticket to Saw, the musical note, the snowman...

Honestly...she didn't know what she'd do if she had to fight him. She could never let herself forget what he'd done to her...but she couldn't forget all the good times they'd had together, either.  
Her vision blurred.

She sighed and closed her eyes, lowering her hand.

A loud neighing noise made her look up. She turned around just in time to see Nyx galloping towards her. The Night Mare was frantic, and that was enough to get Melinda's attention. She could wallow in self-pity later. Whatever was urgent enough to startle a Night Mare had to be more important than her own screwed-up past.

"Whoa, whoa." Melinda reached out and stroked Nyx's nose as the horse skidded to a stop. "Calm down, girl. What is it?"

Nyx turned and looked her mistress right in the eye. She neighed and whinnied, but Melinda only caught parts of it. But those parts were enough to make the hairs on her arms stand on end.

'Fire'. 'Bennett'. 'Trapped'.

"Trapped?" Melinda clutched Nyx's head so they were staring into each other's eyes. "Are you sure? _Absolutely_ sure? You know I always tell you to double-check the Bennetts."

It was true. Melinda hadn't forgotten her old friend Jamie Bennett. She hadn't kept in touch with him, of course; the guardians were at his beck and call, and he'd tell them where she was the minute he knew. He meant well, but he would've wrecked everything.  
But she'd still wanted to protect him. She didn't want to repeat the mistake she'd made with her aunt. Ergo, in the past couple of years, she'd ordered the Night Mares to watch over the family and warn her if anything happened to them.

Nothing tragic had ever befallen him.

Until now.

Nyx nodded her head vigorously, repeating her report.

'Trapped'. 'Lightning storm'. 'Fire'. 'Jamie'.

Melinda didn't think; she acted. She mounted Nyx and pulled on her mane, "Girl, take me to Burgess. _Now_. Before Dad wakes up."  
Nyx whinnied in agreement. If Pitch woke up and found them missing, there'd be hell to pay.  
With a kick and a sharp, 'Yaah!', the two flew out of the Realm, cutting through the air like knives.

Melinda didn't look back; the sole thought on her mind was Jamie, trapped in his burning house.

If she'd known that this would be the last time she saw her home in a long time, she might have looked back.


	32. Chapter 31: Old Friends

**OK, sorry if the last one was shorter, but I had work to do. Homework, chores, and my head was killing me. This one's longer, so I hope you like it.  
**

Chapter 31: Old Friends

"Faster, faster!" Melinda kicked Nyx sharply in the ribs. She kept one hand entangled in the Night Mare's mane; the other held a pair of binoculars to her face. They were getting closer to Burgess, but thankfully, there was no sign of the guardians yet. Just to be safe, though, she'd slipped on her serpent mask to avoid being recognized. She kept the binoculars glued to her eyes, searching for her old friend's house. It wasn't easy, though; while the worst had passed, the lightning storm was still ranging around her. Nyx had to swerve several times to avoid getting electrocuted.

Melinda was soaked to the bone and her hands were numb with cold, but she didn't care. She wasn't leaving Jamie to die.

Once she spotted the house, she almost lost control of Nyx.

"Oh my God..." She breathed, lowering the binoculars. Behind the mask, her eyes widened to anime proportions.

What was once the Bennett house was now a pillar of fire and smoke. Blinding flames ranging from blood-red to nearly white gold escaped from every window. The raindrops were doing little to killing the flames. Same went for the firemen. A large crowd had formed, staring at the fire with undisguised horror etched on their faces. Even from the distance, the girl could make out three figures huddled close together, screaming and crying.

One person was missing.

Melinda felt her heart drop into her stomach.

Jamie. Jamie wasn't present. He was still in there.

She gave Nyx another kick, "Land!"

Nyx gave her a questioning whinny.

"I don't _know_ where! Somewhere close!"

Nyx snorted and zoomed below. Melinda yelped and held on tight as her Night Mare landed behind the burning house. A panting Melinda slid off her stallion and adjusted her serpent skull. Nyx whinnied fearfully and retreating, her gold eyes focused on the flames.  
Despite the situation, Pitch's apprentice hesitated. She walked towards her Night Mare and grabbed the side of its face, "Nyx? What's wrong?"

Nyx calmed down a little at the sight of her mistress, but when the flames roared, she neighed and took several steps back.

"What...?" Melinda looked at her stallion and understood. Little clumps of Nightmare Sand fell off, hissing and giving off smoke. Once Nyx was out of the fire's luminence, her wounds sealed up.  
Melinda's lips became a thin line. "I see. The light...it's dangerous for you."

Nyx neighed and nodded, her eyes still wide.

Melinda's rationality screamed at her to turn back, but she blocked it out. She couldn't abandon her friend. She couldn't make the same mistake she'd done with Aunt Violet. If she just walked away now, she'd never forgive herself.

Swallowing hard, she removed her binoculars, "Okay, then. Wait here."

Nyx whinnied in protest, but her master was already running towards the burning house. Wincing in anticipation, she tightened her wet cloak around her and climbed in through a shattered window.

It was like she'd stepped in Hell.

The entire living room was engulfed in bright tongues of fire, and the heat was enough to make patches of sweat form all over the girl's body. Her cloak suddenly felt like a heavy, sweaty second skin. Melinda tore it off and cast it aside; immediately, she felt like a great weight had been lifted from her shoulders. She watched with repulsed fascination as flames ate at the walls and furniture like they were pastries.  
Smoke climbed down her throat, coating it. She coughed and hacked, blinking rapidly to keep the smog out of her eyes.

"J..." She coughed again, louder this time, "JAMIE! WHERE ARE YOU?!"

The ceiling came crashing down. Melinda screamed, and black sand sprang out of her gourd and shielded her. She sighed in relief as she felt the debris slide off her shield. Once the danger passed, the sand crawled back into her gourd. Looking around, the girl spotted something.

A hand, poking out from a pile of burning wood.

"Jamie!" She shrieked, bolting towards him. With new strength, she grabbed the burning boards and flung them across the room, ignoring the splinters digging into her fingers and palms.  
Before too long, she found what she was looking for. Her eyes welled up, and it wasn't because of the smoke.

Jamie, now her age, was lying on his back. His eyes were closed, but his expression was one of pain. When Melinda grabbed his arm and pulled him out from the remaining ruins, she understood why.

His back was scorched, and the smell of burning meat filled her nostrils.

Slapping a hand over her mouth, Melinda knelt down and patted Jamie's cheek, "JB? C'mon, wake up."

For a second, she didn't recieve a reaction. Then, the eyelids lifted to reveal a pair of warm, chocolate-brown eyes. Melinda sighed in relief. Thank God he was still alive. He could've been dead by now. Oh, where were those blasted guardians when they were **_really_** needed?!

He blinked slowly, taking in her masked face. "Who..." His raspy voice whispered, "...are you?"

Melinda was sure her heart would break. "JB, it's me." She ripped the skull off and laid it beside her, "It's...Lucy." The word sounded so _wrong_, so _foreign_ to her. She hadn't uttered it in so long. It felt like she'd just brought a corpse back to life.

Jamie's eyes slowly widened, "L...Lu?"

Melinda cracked a sad smile, "Yeah, man. It's me. Come here." She pulled him to his feet, using her Nightmare Sand for the extra weight-lifting, "I'm gonna help you." With the smoke clogging her lungs and the heat sapping at her strength, it was amazing she managed to succeed. After a few minutes of grunting, Melinda finally got her childhood friend standing.

Once Jamie was on his feet, he did something that caught his savior by surprise.

He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into a tight embrace. Melinda stood rooted to the spot, her eye wide. For a minute, she couldn't comprehend what was happening. When it finally sunk in, she felt her heart crack.

She'd left him. She'd totally abandoned him, and he was still embracing her.

Tears freely streamed down the side of her face as she hugged him back, taking caution to avoid his wounds. After a moment, they pulled away. Jamie, totally forgetting the disaster around him, looked at Melinda like he was trying to see through her.  
"Where've you been all this time?" He tried to brush the hair out of Melinda's eye, but she ducked his hand. The shame came at her head-on, burning as much as the flames surrounding them. Avoiding her old friend's eyes, she shook her head, "Never mind that. Let's just get you out of-"

_C-c-c-c-rack..._

Melinda and Jamie looked up at the same time. The ceiling above their heads cracked, and a loud groaning noise from above threatened to deafen them.

Melinda acted out of pure instinct. "Look out!" She shoved Jamie as hard as she could as the ceiling gave away.

An entire floor's worth of blazing concrete and wood came tumbling down on her.

* * *

As the madness continued to flourish, a single spirit whisked through the air like an eagle. From a distance, it would've been impossible to describe his features; especially if he was practically invisible to most people. Even if someone had been able to see him (which was rather unlikely), they wouldn't have been able to get a good look. The sprite was zipping at too rapid a rate.

Straight for the burning house.

Jack Frost yelled a battle cry as his staff gave off a bluish-white light. A wave of crystal ice blanketed the flames, killing them instantly. The people watched with awe as this apparent miracle unfolded.

Jack didn't care; he broke through the roof, landing on his feet like a cat. The flames backed away from him like intimidated jackals, as though they knew of his advantage over them. That suited Jack just fine; he had a friend to save.

"Jamie!" He shouted, cupping his hands over his mouth, "Hey, JB! Where are ya?!"

"Jack!" A male voice called back, faintly.

The winter spirit dove downstairs, searching through the walls of blinding fire. He felt like a snowflake in the summer, but he wasn't leaving. He coughed and wiped at his already-sweaty bangs, "JB?!"

"I'm-I'm here! Help!" Jamie's voice sounded strained and agonized. That was all Jack needed to rush towards his voice.

Jack couldn't have been more surprised by what he saw. Jamie, who looked like he'd stuck his back in an oven, was kneeling before a huge pile of cement and wood, tiredly clawing at the pieces. He looked like he was ready to faint.

"Hey!" He grabbed Jamie's arm and pulled him up, "What the hell, man?! Get out of here! Save yourself!"

"No..." Jamie pointed to the pile, "Lucy's...under there. She came here...to save...me; we can't just...leave her."

"Lucy?" Jack frowned, "Who's that?"

Jamie looked every bit as confused as his friend, but he shook his head, "Just...help me. Please."

Jack was more concerned for his friend's life than that of some stranger. But there was something in Jamie's eyes. He looked totally terrfied, but not for himself; for this girl.  
Why? What was so bloody special about her that he'd risk his own safety?

Jack gave him a push towards the door, "Go! I'll help her."

"But-"

A torrent of icicles sent Jamie flying backwards, out the door and right in front of his family.

"Jamie!" Sophie wrapped her arms around her brother's neck, sobbing her heart out. The teenage boy reacted as if on autopilot, holding his nine-year-old sister close. The crowd applauded, and Mrs. Bennett started weeping with joy. As he comforted his sister, Jamie kept his eyes attached to his house, which was still blazing. His two closest friends were still inside, and both of them were vulnerable.

Would Jack handle the heat? Would Lucy survive?

* * *

"Oh, man..." Jack's eyes widened as he finally brushed enough rubble away. Lying underneath it was was a girl around Jamie's age. She was dressed in a very dark style: a tight black-and-violet striped shirt, black boots, and black leggings. She had a nose ring, and wavy hair flowed in a russet river behind her back.

There was something...familiar about her. Jack couldn't put his finger on it, but he suddenly felt like he'd seen this girl before.

But _when?_

Images flashed before his eyes, making him gasp and stumble.

_He, this girl, and Jamie were posing for a picture. It was one of the first days of winter, but Jack had already made sure that Burgess had its fair share of snow. Jamie was yanking on the girl's hair, and she was chortling as she tried to push him away. Jack was keeping a tight hold on both of them, grinning mischieviously at the camera._

Jack panted, his eyes wide as doughnuts. His head was killing him; it felt like someone was hammering at his skull. And this heat was sucking him dry of energy; if he didn't get out of here soon, he'd burn to a crisp. Literally.

Looking back at the mysterious girl, he sighed, "Better appreciate this." He slipped one arm under her knees, the other around her back. Despite his lack of strength, he was able to lift her into his arms.

Then, he ran as though hell itself were chomping at his heels. The fire hissed like predators that had lost their prey.

The guardian of fun jumped out of the house and into the backyard, panting and sweating. He dropped the girl in the grass before collapsing, his body heaving with gasps. He looked at the girl, who was still unconscious. Again, he felt an unusual emotion tug at his subconscious.

He'd seen her before. So had Jamie; he wouldn't have risked his life for her if that hadn't been the case.

But who _was_ she?


	33. Chapter 32: Loss

Chapter 32: Loss

The Realm was silent as the day slowly died. Its last golden rays retreated, giving the shadows room to stretch. As the sky went from burnt orange to violet, the Night Mares neighed impatiently, their gold eyes glowing like campfires. They were ready to spread fear; all they needed was their master, and gold sand would become black.

As the sky continued to darken, the Nightmare King opened his eyes, trying to ignore the awful hollowness he felt. He'd never exactly felt warm before; more like room temperature. But now, he felt like all of his insides had been scooped out. Even his cold, non-beating heart was numb.  
He sighed and sat up in his bed. As he did so, a tiny piece of his shoulder crumbled away, leaving a hole the size of an acorn. Pitch grimaced, "Simply wonderful." He turned to the moon, which was just beginning to peak out from between the mountains. "Are you happy now, old friend?"  
The moon didn't reply, but it was glowing brightly. Well, it was always glowing, but tonight it was almost as radiant as its day counterpart.

Pitch froze. He'd been around to understand what was going on. He'd seen Tsar act like this when he'd brought the guardians into being, one by one. The last time the moon had been so painfully bright had been three hundred years ago - the night of Jack Frost's death and resurrection.

With some difficulty, Pitch rose from the bed and peered at the Man in the Moon. "What madness are you stirring up **_this_** time?"

Again, nothing.

And the fact that Melinda hadn't rushed in here, all dressed up and ready to go, made Pitch's nerves about as steady as electrons in an atom.

"Melinda!" He barked, his voice ringing through the Realm, "Come here immediately!"

Of course, nobody showed up, which only fueled the Nightmare King's anxiety.

Loud neighing made him spin around. Nyx stormed inside, a panicked look in her glowing yellow eyes and something yellowing in her jaws.  
So, Melinda had left without permission. Now, when Tsar had warned them that he was going to butt in as always! What was going through that girl's head? Surely, this was a clue.  
Pitch slipped on his familiar mask of coldness and held a cracked hand out, "Give that to me. **_Now_**."

Nyx hesitated before dropping the thing in her master's waiting hand.

Pitch nearly dropped it. As much as he looked at it, he wished he was mistaken.

It was Melinda's serpent skull mask, burned black around the sides.

* * *

"Gangway, coming through! Guy with a chick! Move it!"

Jack's voice echoed through North's workshop, making the burly man look up from the puppet he'd been painting. Concern and guilt soaked through him as the young voice got closer and closer. What could the winter spirit have to show him? He'd taken off so suddenly...was Jamie hurt? Had the guardians been wrong in standing aside, even if it wasn't their purpose to interfere with life and death?

A little girl burst into the room first, her wheat-colored hair flying in every direction. He knew this girl; Bunnymund talked about her enough. Despite his inner shell of anxiety, North smiled and stood up, towering over the nine-year-old, "Hello, Sophie. 'Ow is your brother?"

"Santa!" Sophie hugged North's hip, since that was as high as she could reach. North's smile widened, and he patted the child's head. "Jamie's okay," She answered, sounding as relieved as North felt, "But Lucy's not."

North frowned, scratching his chin, "Lucy...?"

"Yup." Sophie nodded her head, her bright green eyes wide, "Jamie and Lucy were friends, but she disappeared. But she saved Jamie!"

"Hmm..." This all sounded very strange. He remembered the whole 'Lucy Rivera' incident, even if seven years had passed. The winter spirit's suffering during that time was forever burned into North's mind.

Lucy Rivera, one of Jack's first and closest believers. She'd moved to Burgess mere months after the whole occurence, and she'd quickly become one of Jack's best friends. The three of them - Lucy, Jack, and Jamie - had done everything together from homework to snowman-making. But right after Lucy's tenth birthday, things had changed. North never knew the details; Jack had simply refused to spill the beans. Then, the girl had vanished altogether. After searching for her for months, Jack had simply forgotten her.

But Jamie hadn't. North remembered how, for the first couple of Christmases afterwards, Jamie had written to him that all he wanted as a present was his friend back.

Alas, that'd been one of the few requests North had been unable to fulfill.

But what was this sudden reappearance of the girl? Where had she been hiding for so long? And how had she known of the Bennett house-fire?

The doors flew open, the temperature lowering several degrees. North held the girl close to keep her warm as Jack ran towards him, a girl in his arms. The Russian recognized her in a heartbeat. She was older and very different, but she was still the book-loving child he'd known. There was just..._something_ that had remained.

"Hey, North." Jack placed the girl on a free table, "You're not gonna believe what just happened."

North's mouth became a thin line. He took a good look at Lucy and couldn't get over how different she was from the sweet child she once was. Her once-olive skin had become unhealthily pale, and she had a nose ring. Her once-short hair now tickled her waist, and she looked like she hadn't slept well in a while.  
Just what had _happened_ to this girl?  
He turned to the guardian of fun. "Try me."

* * *

The girl remained unconscious through the whole tale. Sophie played with the elves, but even she couldn't stop glancing over her shoulder every few minutes to see if her brother's friend had awakened. Jack looked worried, too, but he still told his father figure the entire event.

"That electric storm...it was crazy." He shook his head, his crystal-blue eyes swimming with confusion, "Did Manny do that?"

"No," North shook his head, "Manny can do many thing, but veather he cannot. He exists to protect zee children, as do ve." He stole a glance at the girl before continuing, nervously, "Er, Jack...do you...not know who she is?"

Just for a second, Jack remembered the images that had come to him when he saw her. Then, he shook it off and shrugged, folding his arms behind his back, "How can I? She's a total stranger."

Good thing she was asleep, North figured. Otherwise, that remark would've stung.

"Yes, vell..." North steered them back on topic, "Anyvay, it does not matter. All zat matters is, she is safe now." He smiled, "She saved Jamie's life?"

"Yeah." Jack smiled genuinely, his eyes filled with relief, "Jamie said she pushed him outta the way when the ceiling caved in." He looked at the girl in an almost affectionate way, "I owe her for that."

The girl's eyelids flickered.

"She's wakin' up!" Sophie dropped the eggnog she'd been drinking, much to the joy of the elves. She scampered towards the girl and placed both hands on her limp arm, her excited eyes focused on the girl's face.  
The girl took a deep breath, her eyes still closed.

Then, her chestnut eye snapped open. Jack thought it was insanely creepy.

"Lucy?" Sophie asked gently, "Lu, are you okay?"

Lucy winced and sat up, rubbing her head, "I've been better." Once she finished rubbing her scalp, though, she frowned and stroked her hair. Her eye widened as her hands combed through her locks. "What-?!" She grabbed fistfuls of her hair and stared at them in disbelief, "When did my hair get so long?!"  
She gasped and dropped her hair, slapping her hands over her mouth. She looked like she'd just swallowed a bug.

Despite his befuddlement, Jack took a step towards her, "You okay?"

Lucy blinked, "My voice." She coughed, then spoke again, "My voice."

"Vhat about it?" North asked, still not getting it.

"It's...different from what I remember." Lucy examined her hands, staring in shock at how pale and grown they'd become. Without further ado, she climbed off the table. Once her feet touched the ground, though, she practically collapsed. Without thinking, Jack reached out and looped an arm around her waist, steadying her.

Lucy regained her footing, blushing furiously. "Th-thanks..." She looked at the boy, and something sparked in her eye. "J-Jack?"  
Now, Jack was convinced that he was missing something here. Jamie and Sophie insisted that they knew this girl, North had asked him if he knew her, and now she knew his name.  
Why?! Why was he the only one in the dark?! Why couldn't he remember?!

Hating himself for sounding like such a half-wit, he asked, "Do I know you?"

Wrong question. A hurt expression immediately spread across Lucy's face. Blinking, she tried again, "Dude, it's me. Lucy Rivera. We used to hang out together."

"Yeah?" Jack let go of her, ignoring the sting of dolor in his chest, "Well, it must've been quite a while ago, 'cuz I don't remember." He knew he sounded cold as hell, but he couldn't help it. He was beyond confused, and this was making him irritable.

"Lucy, you got so big!" Sophie grinned, walking around Lucy to examine her. The girl smiled in response, "Thanks, kiddo. You got really big yourself." She knelt down and tapped her nose, "But I can tell you still hate the hairbrush."  
Sophie giggled, "How old're you now? Are you seventeen like Jamie?"

"Seventeen?" Lucy frowned and straightened, "Of course not, Sophie. I'm ten."

Jack had to laugh at that one, "Yeah, right. And I'm three."

Lucy's frown deepened, "I don't..." She noticed a mirror covered by a cloth. Without hesitation, she marched towards it and tore the cloth off. When she saw her own reflection, she gasped and took a few steps back. She took in the black-painted nails, dark make-up, grown body, and black combat boots.

"What...happened?!" She screamed at the mirror. When she noticed the hair hanging in her eye, she pushed it away...only to recoil. The eye the fringe had been hiding was white as sea foam and completely blind.

She whirled around at the two guardians and child, "What the hell's happened to me?!"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa." Jack held his hands up, "Easy there, sunshine. Calm down."

"Calm down?!" Lucy looked at the winter spirit like he'd lost his reason, "I don't know how I got this way, I'm half-blind, and...urgh!" She yelled in frustration and leaned against the wall, her face in her hands.  
An uneasy silence passed between the group. North was confused, sure, but he couldn't help pity the girl. She'd saved Jamie's life, and her reward? Waking up with no memory of the past few years and a friend who didn't even know who she was. North wished he could do something to help, but unfortunately, he was powerless.

Sophie didn't really understand what was going on, but she could still see that her friend was upset. Ergo, she did the only thing she could think of doing: she walked towards Lucy and gently took one of her hands.

Lucy stared down at the child for a moment. Then, the ghost of a smile appeared on her black-painted lips. She squeezed Sophie's hand, silently thanking her.

North smiled at the scene. He put a large hand on Lucy's shoulders, "Lucy, may I suggest you sleep on it? In zee morning, I vill call zee guardians and ve vill discuss it. I promise, ve vill get to the bottom of zis."

Lucy didn't look to sure, but she nodded nevertheless, offering the guardian of wonder a small smile, "Thank you, sir. I really appreciate it."

"Good." North smiled warmly at her before steering her towards the guest room. Lucy glanced one last time at Jack before following the guardian towards her temporary room.

Jack shook his head at her retreating back. What was he _missing_ here?!

From the corner of his eye, the white-haired teen saw out the window. A dark figure appeared, then vanished.

It didn't take a genius to tell who it was.

Jack groaned, "Oh, great." He knelt down and put a hand on Sophie's shoulder. His crystal-blue eyes locked with her brilliant green ones. "Sophie, I want you to stay here. Don't come out until I say so. Okay?"

Sophie gulped and nodded, "O-okay."

"Good girl." He squeezed her shoulder before dashing outside, ready to kick Pitch's ass from here to Texas.

* * *

Jack was greeted by the north wind as he stepped out in the night. The place in front of him was a winter wonderland - his favorite kind of wonderland - but he wasn't easily fooled. He knew what was hiding in this seemingly calm environment.

"I know you're there, asshole!" He snapped, "Just come out already so I can kick your butt!"

"My, my." Pitch appeared from the shadow of one of the hills, "Such a foul mouth, Frost. As a guardian of childhood, shouldn't you be a bit more cautious?"

Jack snorted, "Around kids, sure. Not around dirt-eating pieces of slime like you." He held his staff up menacingly, "You know the drill: get lost and I won't turn you into a Pitch-cicle."

"Ooh, I'm absolutely terrified." Pitch slapped his hands over his cheeks, his eyes widening in fake terror, "How can a man be expected to deal with people who point weapons in his face?" He lowered his hands, giving the boy an unamused look, "Anyway, there is no reason to get your knickers in a knot, boy. I only came here for one thing." He held something up.

Jack arched a dark brow. It was some kind of animal skull large enough to pass for a human's. But by the shape, he'd guess it was a snake of some kind. Part of it was burned as black as Pitch's robes.  
He scoffed, "What am I supposed to do with that? Put it on display for 'World's Ugliest Fossils'?"

Pitch's eyes narrowed, "You know very well who I speak of. I want my daughter back, now."

Jack grinned internally. Time to rub salt in the wound.

"Oh, your daughter?" He asked casually, resting his staff on his shoulder, "Don't you mean Mother Nature? The lady who doesn't even know who you are."

Pitch snarled like a wolf, and the skull cracked in his grip, "I'm talking about Melinda, boy."

"Who?"

"Melinda!" Pitch yelled, "Russet hair, lovely features, and a sad little smile. I know you have her, and _I want her back_."

"Russet..." For a minute, Jack's cocky attitude disappeared. He looked at Pitch curiously, "Are you talking about Lucy?"

Pitch grinned, "It seems you know her after all."

Without warning, a black scythe materialized in his hands. He slammed it into Jack, sending him flying backwards into the Pole's wall. He slid to the snowy ground, groaning. He felt like he'd been punched in the guts, times a dozen.  
Pitch smiled coldly, "Yes, that's her. Where is she?"

Jack scoffed, "Yeah, like I'm gonna tell you."

"You really have a death wish, don't you?!" Pitch snarled, marching towards the winter spirit. "I don't care how many of you fools I have to tear apart; I would destroy armies just to get her back."

Jack looked up at his nemesis, his eyes as cold as the frost he created, "Pitch, I wouldn't give her - or anyone else - to you. Unless I seriously wanted to prove to them that Hell exists!"

Pitch bared his teeth, looking at Jack like all he wanted was to rip him to shreds. He edged closer to him, "It's not enough that the entire bloody planet adores you, is it? You also had to take away the one thing on this earth that sees me as another living creature?!"

Jack smirked and got to his feet, using his staff for support. "Go on, then. Come in and get her."

Pitch didn't need telling twice. He took the first step in front of the door...

...and screamed in pain a moment later. He jumped backwards, clutching his leg. Jack watched with sick amusement as the Boogeyman's foot sizzled and burned like an egg on a frying pan. Pitch glared daggers at the boy, "What sorcery is this?!"

"I gotta thank Molly for that." Jack's smirk grew, "She put a defence spell here the other day. Nobody assosiated with Nightmare Sand can get in here. The properties make their skin boil and, after a few minutes, rot away." His smirk morphed into a smile, "So good luck making ten feet into this place without looking like an escapee from 'Zombieland.'"

Pitch growled angrily as the words sunk in. He knew his precious Melinda was in there; she'd gone to save Jamie, Jack's favorite human. Of course Jack would see her and bring her here. All Pitch wanted to do was retrieve his daughter and bring her home, but now...he couldn't.

He couldn't even save his daughter.

Pitch hissed at Jack, "One day, Frost. One day!" He bolted back into the shadows, but not before Jack saw his expression. Honestly, he never would've dreamed of seeing such a look on the Nightmare King.

It wasn't one of a king losing a servant or slave.

It was that of a father losing his child.


	34. Chapter 33: Reminders

Chapter 33: Reminders

"_Pitch_ wants her?" Molly repeated the next morning, her eyes wide.

"Did I stutter?" Jack retorted crossly, "Look, the spell you cast was wicked awesome, but that's not gonna be enough. He was ready to march in here."

"Then it's simple." Molly held up her handgun, "We gotta double security until we figure out where Lucy goes."

Jack rolled his eyes while Tooth interjected. The fairy put a hand on Molly's shoulder, "Oh, come now, Molly. You wouldn't leave her out there by herself, would you?"

"She's a perfect stranger, Tooth." Molly replied, "Look, I know it sounds cruel of me, but we can't go around risking our necks for people we don't even know."

"We do that all the time, sheila." Bunny commented, "For the children, y'know?"

"She's not a child." Molly countered, "And Pitch doesn't consider most children his. It's not safe to have her around."

"So what would you suggest?" Jack snapped, "We dump her on a roadside with a sign around her neck that says, _'Pitch wants me. Help me'_?"

He was getting upset now; the frost spreading on the walls told the other guardians as much. Molly held a hand up, "Whoa, whoa. Calm down, Frosty. All I'm saying is that by keeping her here, we're putting _our_ lives on the line. I'm just asking if it's really worth it."

"_Da_." North nodded solemnly, "She may no longer be child, but ve cannot abandon her. Ve keep her until she remembers." He looked around, searching his comrades' faces, "Agreed?"

Sandman nodded, shooting the Russian man a thumbs-up. Tooth smiled, "It's the best we can do."  
Jack's smile lit up his entire face, "Ditto."  
Molly, seeing her teammates' faces, sighed and nodded, "Alright, majority rules."

"Good." North nodded, "Ve should all keep an eye on Pitch. As long as Lucy stays here, she safe."

"Want me to strengthen the spell?" Molly asked, "That way, if he tries to send in any of his little pets, they'll disintegrate."

"Yes. Sounds good, you do that." North nodded. With that, he stood up and clapped his hands, "Now, excuse me, but Christmas is only a couple weeks away. I must chop chop!"

Jack snickered, "Need any help there? I can crack a whip to make the yetis go faster."

North chuckled, "No, no. Some other time. Why don't you play vith Molly and Lucy?"

"Uh, excuse me," Molly stood up, raising her hand like a student in class, "But I got visions to draw."

"Right." Jack nodded as the girl walked passed him, "See ya, Psycho."

"See ya, Frostbite." Molly called back.

"Say," Bunny said, "Where is the gal? I'd like ta meet 'er."

"Sure thing, kangaroo." Jack gestured for the rabbit to follow him, "Right this way." Bunny glared at him but followed him anyway.

"My little ankle-biter says she knows 'er." He spoke as they walked through the bright red corridor, "Says you and Jamie did, too." He eyed Jack carefully, searching for a reaction.  
Jack shrugged, meeting his eyes cluelessly, "Yeah. I don't know what they're talking about, though. I've never seen that girl before."  
Bunny arched a brow, "Really?"  
"Yes, really." Jack ran a hand through his snowy hair, "I think I'd remember meeting someone like that, don't you think?"

Bunny rolled his eyes. He knew Sophie had told him the truth; the photo of Jack, a ten-year-old Jamie, and young Lucy proved it. Jack had once known this girl. But why was the winter spirit so insistent that he'd never met her? Had something happened between them?

The Easter Bunny sighed, "Look, whatever, mate. Where's the lady?"

Jack stopped in front of a door and jerked his thumb at it, "Right there."

"Nope." A female voice chirped from the shadows, "Right _here_."

Lucy stepped into view. Freshly showered, she'd managed to find a black dress with white polka-dots and a fake black leather jacket over it. Her long hair was combed over her right eye. She was munching on a Russian sausage as she examined her two visitors.  
"**_Kssh_**." She grinned, "Good morning, fellas. What's up?"

"Sup." Jack gave her a half-wave, "How'd you sleep?"

Lucy's smile softened, "Very deeply. I'll have to thank North for giving me such a nice room."

Jack cracked a smile, "Yeah, he's really nice. He's like a dad to me."

"I guessed as much." Lucy reasoned, taking another bite of sausage, "I mean, you both represent Christmas, on different levels. Besides," She gestured to Jack's mop of pearly hair, "You both got white hair."

She and Jack shared a snicker. The winter spirit felt a tiny, almost undetectable wave of familiarity. He vaguely remembered someone pointing out logic like this - someone who wasn't Molly.  
Lucy's voice brought him out of his thoughts. "Hey," She spoke a little uncomfortably, "Why is the walking fur rug staring at me like that?"

Jack turned to look at Bunny. The Pooka was staring at Lucy the same way children usually look at the Boogeyman. Whatever color was on his face under his fur was gone, and his jaw was dropped. His eyes were wide, his pupils dilated. Images flashed through his brain.

_An explosion._

_An arm, severed at the shoulder._

_A shower of glass, concrete and blood._

_A girl standing alone among the destruction, holding a detached head._

_Grinning at him with a smile identical to the one Lucy had flashed just now._

"Uh, I - uh - gotta go. Paint some eggs." He gave Jack a hesitant pat on the back, "See ya, Frostbite." Without waiting for a response, he tapped his foot. A tunnel appeared before him, which he jumped into without a second's hesitation. The hole sealed up, a flower bloomed in its place.

Lucy blinked at it. Then, she turned to the guardian of fun, "Okay, what did I do? And don't tell me he just had sour carrot juice this morning."

"Beats me." Jack shrugged. He might have seemed indifferent, but in actuality, he was worried. While he didn't exactly know the Pooka like the back of his hand, he hadn't expected such an abrupt departure. And why had Bunny looked at Lucy like that? Just one more question that would remain unanswered, it seemed.

But no. Jack shrugged the concern off the same way a person shed of a sweater. The weather outside was cold, but the sun was still shining; perfect for a snowball fight.

And maybe...a perfect way to remember?

He waved a hand, "Ah, he's fine. Probably had to go do something, I guess. Hey," He jerked his thumb at the exit, "Wanna make a snowman?"

Lucy's concerned expression shifted into a pleased grin. Again with the familiarity. Even though everything was in disarray, Jack was becoming more convinced. He'd met her before.  
"I'd love to." She responded, sincerely meaning it, "It'll be like old times." Jack nodded, not wanting to ruin her good mood by reminding her that he didn't recall those 'good times'. Lucy smirked, "Race ya!" She shoved a stunned Jack to the floor before bolting towards the door, laughter escaping her with every step.

"Oh," Jack's smirk matched Lucy's as he pulled himself up, "So _that's_ how you're gonna play." He held out his hand, and a snowball appeared.

* * *

Half an hour, a furious snowball fight was raging within the boundaries of the Pole. North watched with affection and amusement as the two teenagers pelted each others with snowballs. Jack had an incredibly unfair advantage: he could whip up snowballs with a wave of his hand, while Lucy had to make them the un-magical way. Still, she was reasonably quick about it; once, she managed to hit Jack in the back of the head and send him face-first in the snow.

The fight lasted the entire day; by the time the girl waved the white flag, the sky was already streaked with royal purple and orange.

"Okay! I surrender!" Lucy yelled, dripping with ice and snow. She held her hands up to emphasize her point.

Jack cackled, tossing and catching a snowball like it was a baseball. "You finally saw the light, huh?"

"Oh, yes, mighty Father Frost," Lucy bowed from the waist up, "Ruler of the World!"

Jack snickered again, "Glad ya finally came to your senses." He sat in a snow heap, a satisfied look on his ashen face, "Nobody can beat me!"

Lucy smirked as she walked towards him, her hands behind her back. "Oh, yes." She nodded, "You look tired. Maybe you should..." She pulled out a can of silly string, "...Lie down!"  
Jack yelped as the green, slimy tendrils shot out of the can and stuck themselves to his face and hair. "Too bad I was put in a room right next to the toy deposit, eh?" Lucy asked, shrieking with laughter. She emptied the can before racing back for the workshop.  
Jack was trembling with chortles, but he put on a mock angry face and waved his fist at the girl's retreating back, "Damn you! You outwitted me, but I'll have my revenge!"  
His reply was a raspberry; then, Lucy disappeared into the building, closing the door behind her.

Jack snorted and used his staff to get up, peeling the gooey stuff from his face. It had an unpleasant aroma, but with a little soap and water it would wash right off.  
Hopefully.  
Jack was grinning from ear to ear. He hadn't had this much fun in a long time. All his first believers were growing up and developing interests of their own, and Sophie was more of an Easter-lover. It'd been a while since he'd had such a fun snowball fight with someone.

He suddenly doubled over, a grimace on his face and his hand on his temple.

* * *

_"So, why're you always studying, squirt?" Jack asked, tucking his arms under his chin. A ten-year-old girl sighed and rolled her eyes, "Because it's important! Education is what separates us from monkeys."_  
_Jack arched a dark brow. They were seated at a school playground bench in the middle of winter. Well, the girl was sitting. Jack was lying on the table with his legs kicking the air. While the girl's classmates were playing - as they should - she was sitting there with a textbook as thick as pot roast on her lap._

_This was practically unheard of for the winter spirit. His purpose was to bring joy and fun to the kids. He couldn't just leave her like this, could he?_  
_"And who told you that? Your teacher or somethin'?" He asked, hoping to trigger some reaction._

_The girl shook her head, not looking up from the book, "No. My mom."_

_Jack winced, "Great mom."_

_The girl blew a raspberry at him, "She's an excellent mom! Now, beat it!"_

_"Wow. Are you always this sociable or am I just lucky?"_

_The girl shrugged, totally focused on her reading._

_Jack smirked, "Tell you what."_

_The girl sighed and looked up, looking thoroughly annoyed._

_"You have **one** snowball fight with me. If you win, I'll leave you alone." He said, crossing his heart with his finger._  
_The girl arched a brow, "And if I lose?"_  
_Jack grinned, "Then you have to spend the rest of the day with me."_

_The girl eyed him for a moment, taking in his stick-like arms and legs. Outrunning him would be child's play._  
_It was in the bag._  
_She shrugged again and closed her book. "Fine. No point playing with a stranger though, right?" She held her small hand out, "I'm Lucy."_

_Jack smiled, "Pleased to meetcha. I'm Jack. Jack Frost." He took her hand and shook it, relishing how warm it felt._

* * *

Jack took deep breaths, holding onto his staff as though it were a life preserver. That recollection had slammed into him like a bus. His head felt frozen and boiling hot at the same time. That memory had been so sharp, so _**real**_. It couldn't have been an illusion.

Lucy really had been his friend once.

But what had gotten in the way?


	35. Chapter 34: Loopholes

Chapter 34: Loopholes

The minute Jack walked in, he was greeted by mobocracy. Everyone was gathered around the globe, staring at it anxiously. Once he followed their eyes, he understood why.  
Black sand was creeping across the enormous sphere, blocking out the millions of miniature suns. Loud laughter echoed through the workshop as a figure materialized at the top of the globe. Jack felt anger boil deep within him as the person stepped out.

"Hello, guardians." Pitch greeted them amicably, "Miss me? I certainly haven't."

Lucy's eyes widened, and she involuntarily took a step back. She'd never seen this guy before, she was sure of it. She'd only heard of him through the tale Jack had told her back when she was a child. But why did she still feel like she knew this guy? Curse these emotions!  
Was that a flicker of...hurt on the Boogeyman's face?

Molly's face was as white as the snow outside. "This is impossible." She whispered, "He shouldn't be able to get in here. The spell. It-it keeps black sand users from-"

"Indeed." Pitch walked with his hands behind his back, smiling at her like she was a dog that had just performed a cute trick. "Very impressive, I must say. But it is not an absolute wall. Your incantation forbids me and my Night Mares from entering the Pole." He grinned wickedly, "But there's a loophole: nobody said anything about sending an image of myself."

Molly cursed at her own foolishness. She should've strengthened the damn barrier when she'd had the chance!

"Vhat eez eet zat you vant?" North's twin swords were already drawn. Lucy's breath caught in her throat when she saw how sharp they were. They looked serrated enough to slice through steel.  
It was a good thing, Lucy thought, that Pitch hadn't come here in person. Otherwise, he'd have been minced to bits.

"Simple, really." Pitch replied, the smile gone, "You have something that belongs to me. I'd like her back."

All eyes immediately turned to Lucy. She rubbed her forearm, staring at her feet. She hated being at the center of attention, especially now.

She was surprised to find a cold hand on her shoulder. The girl peeked through her curtain of hair to see Jack standing beside her. She blinked, straightening a little. "I don't think so, Booger Man. She's not going anywhere with you."

"That's where you're mistaken, Frostbite." Pitch answered icily, "That girl is a being of darkness, just like me. I selected her years ago for the honor of carrying on my life's work." Pitch vanished, then reappeared right before Lucy. He stared into her chestnut eye almost imploringly, reaching out as if to touch her face, "Come home, child."  
Lucy felt something tug at her heart. He sounded so...caring, like he really did want her to be with him. For a second, he reminded her of her father.

Then, she remembered exactly who - and _what_ - he was. Pitch Black, the Nightmare King and the bringer of childhood miseries. No way could she have associated with someone like that.  
She stepped back, keeping a protective arm in front of Jack. The winter spirit had to crack a smile at her. She had guts, no doubt about that.

Pitch stared at her with wide eyes, as if she'd just pulled a rug from under his feet. His pale gray hand stayed in the air. He looked heartbroken for a moment...then, his expression morphed into one of hatred. "Very well." He dropped his hand, "You want to stay here with these buffoons? Done! But before I go..." He disappeared and reappeared on the globe, standing above them all, "Know this.

"Eye for an eye, tooth for a tooth. You guardians decided to take away my only believer? Fine. Then I'll take away all of yours, one by one. Until you return her to me, I'll drain you of power. Rest assured, the moment the girl returns home, I will withdraw my attacks." His image flickered like a television screen, "_Arrivederci_."

With that, he was gone.

As if on cue, several lights died out, mostly in Australia. Lucy felt her stomach sink like a rock in a pond as the golden orbs went out. "Vhat eez zis?" North stepped forward, his eyes wide.

Suddenly, a tunnel appeared in the middle of the floor. Everyone stepped back, giving Bunnymund room to hop in.

But nothing came out.

A bloodied paw rested on the edge.

"Bunny!" Jack rushed forward, as did two yetis. The trio managed to pull out a gray and crimson Pooka and place him on the floor.

Molly's hands slapped over her mouth, and North turned a new shade of pale.

Bunny was a wreck to say the least. His silky coat was stained scarlet almost everywhere, and his legs were twisted in a horribly unnatural way. His right arm looked too long for his body.

"Bunny, vhat happened?!" North knelt down, placing a hand on his comrad's shoulder. The Pooka was hardly awake, but he still murmured, "Night...Mares...destroyed my Warren, mate. Me eggs..." He moaned and hid his face in his bleeding palm.

A thick, heavy wave of guilt washed over Lucy.

This was all her fault. If she'd just gone with the Boogeyman, maybe the lights would still be visible. Bunny would still be okay and not...oh, God.  
And this was only going to get worse.

Lucy's vision blurred. She raced out of the workshop with her hands covering her face. Jack saw her leave and started to bolt after her.

"You know," Molly stated, making him stop, "I said this might happen. I said that we'd be risking our lives for her." She met Jack's crystal-blue eyes with her stormy-gray ones, "Just think about that."

"I don't need to think about anything." Jack snarled, ice forming on the end of his staff, "Pitch did this, not Lucy. And I don't know what kind of problem you have with her, but get over it. I don't like jealous stuck-ups."

Molly felt like she'd been smacked in the face. She wasn't jealous; she just didn't like that her team was risking it all for a complete and total stranger. Was that so ridiculous?

She never got the chance to voice her thoughts. Jack was already racing after his friend.

* * *

Lucy slammed the door behind her, then leaned against it. She managed to hold it together for a few seconds; then, her face crumpled. She slumped to the floor and hugged her knees to her chest. She buried her face in her knees, sobbing brokenly.

What has the world come to? She knew the blow to the head she'd received was blocking her recent memories, but it was all so infuriating. Why did Pitch want her? He said he'd 'selected' her. Why?! There were millions of children in the world. What was so freaking special about her?

But that wasn't what made her feel so hopeless. It was the knowledge that she was practically dragging the people who'd shown her kindness to an early grave. If she didn't go to Pitch, then he'd take away their believers. And the guardians depended on believers the same way people counted on food and water.

She was killing them. She might as well be the one wielding the axe.

A strong fist hammered against her door, "Lucy, open up!"

"Go away!" She shrieked, her voice cracked from crying.

"Lu, don't listen to that scumbag. We won't let him take you."

"You think I care about that?!" Lucy shouted, "I'm the reason Bunny's in his deathbed!"

"Oh, Lu..." He knocked on the door again, "Please let me in?"

Lucy hesitated...then moved away from the door. Jack entered the room and found her curled up in a ball, back to the wall. He knelt down beside her, "Look, I don't want you blaming yourself for that. It's Pitch's fault, not yours."

"But if I go to him like he wants, it'll stop." Lucy replied nervously, "And, I don't know why, but a part of me feels like that would be the right thing to do. Like I **_belong_** with him. I can't explain it."

"Lu." Jack put his hands on her shoulders, "We'll fix this, I promise. We sent him crawling back in the ground once, we'll do it again. Plus, I got more believers, so I'm stronger than before. And we got Molly with her gun and spells. And you with your..." He smirked, "Mad silly-string skills."  
Despite her overall damp spirits, Lucy had to smile at that. She wiped her eyes and nodded, "Okay. Let's bring him down."

Jack smiled and helped her up, "Yeah. Let's do this."


	36. Chapter 35: Gold Becomes Black

Chapter 35: Gold Becomes Black

Pitch sat in his lair, relishing in its silence. Projecting that image of himself - or rather, what he _used_ to look like - had taken up most of his energy. He felt as exhausted as a human would be after a two-hour intense work-out. His bones felt as fragile as toothpicks, and his muscles felt like raw meat.

And his skin...well, ever since Melinda's great belief in him had extinguished, his skin had cracked even more than it'd had a couple of years ago.  
It didn't stop there.

He was so weak now, the great Boogeyman was confined to a _wheelchair_.

A fat scorpion as inky as tar crawled towards his foot. Pitch smiled and, with some difficulty, knelt and scooped the critter in his cracked hands. "Hello, my beauty." He cooed, "Are the others well infiltrated?"  
The scorpion nodded.  
"Are they hidden?"  
Another nod.  
"Good. Now, give my Night Mares the plan before returning to that frozen wasteland." Pitch ordered, holding his hands up.  
With a third and last nod, the scorpion mutated into a vampire bat with beady crimson eyes. With a screech, it beat its fleshy wings and flew off into the Realm.

Pitch smirked.  
Apparently, that Molly girl wasn't as sagacious as she thought; while her sorcery had been strong enough to keep him and his Night Mares from entering, she hadn't done anything about his _smaller_ creations. They were so stunted they could slip into the Pole undetected. Now, the guardians had six scorpions made from Nightmare Sand watching their every move, and they were completely unaware of it! Oh, how wonderfully sneaky it felt, having a sentinel to spy on his enemies!

And Melinda, of course. Pitch had mostly created the scorpions for her sake.

The Boogeyman hesitated, then placed his hands back on the armrests.

Melinda...that blow to the head had really done some damage. From what Pitch had seen, she had no recollection of being his apprentice. As much as he wanted to blame Manny for this as well, Pitch knew that science was against him on this one. Sudden, severe slams to the skull could cause temporary blackouts, especially if the memories are relatively recent.

He sighed heavily and pinched the bridge of his nose. A deep pain spread through his chest, like a wound threatening to rip open again.

So, he was alone again. After seven years of having a child again, she'd been taken away from him.  
And sided with _them._

He hadn't been lying when he'd told the guardians that he wanted to crush them again.  
He'd finally had enough.

After his defeat, he'd been forced to remain in the shadows even more so than before; and worst still, Melinda had been compelled to follow suit, simply because she was associated with him! He'd tolerated it day after damned day and held his tongue, resisting the urge to strangle them every time a child walked through him or he heard parents telling their kids that he wasn't real. The only thing that had helped him cope was Melinda. At first, she'd made him feel respected, something he'd forgotten long ago. And then, she'd reminded him how it felt to be _loved_. Pitch wasn't afraid to admit now that he'd been happier in the past seven years than he had in most of his immortal life.

And that had been too much for Tsar Lunar. He'd decided to change the cards on the table and scramble up everyone's destiny.  
He'd taken Pitch's child away from him, and the guardians were probably brainwashing her right now.

No. That couldn't happen. Pitch wanted her back.

But why not give the guardians - and the moon, for that matter - a taste of their own medicine first? Why not let them suffer as he had, if not for a little while?

Pitch glanced at a framed photograph sitting on the armrest of his throne. Of all the pictures he and Melinda had taken together, this was by far his favorite. It exhibited the two of them just six months ago, on Father's Day. Even though the Boogeyman had insisted that Melinda did not have to do anything for him, she'd still found a ticket for a torture museum exhibit in Amsterdam. Pitch, of course, hadn't needed a ticket, but he'd still enjoyed himself immensely.  
The photo showed the Boogeyman and his apprentice leaning against an Iron Maiden, with Pitch lightly touching one of its ancient, razor-sharp spikes.  
Melinda had been holding his free hand with both of hers, flashing that dark smile of hers.

Pitch waved his hand, and the frame flew from its spot and landed neatly in his palm. He smiled a little at the picture, stroking the image of his daughter.

"I promise, my little light." He whispered, "We will be together again."

* * *

"Um, Lucy?" Tooth flew into the guest bedroom, a look of concern creasing her features. "What are you doing, sweetie?"

Lucy didn't answer. She flipped a page in her book, searched through the sections, then applied a wrench to...whatever she was working on. The girl's movements were slow with exhaustion, but she refused to stop.  
Tooth placed a petite hand on Lucy's head. This triggered a reaction; Lucy paused in the action of tightening a screw. After a second, the girl shifted in her chair so she was looking at her visitor.  
She yawned loudly, clasping her hand over her mouth, "Oh, hey, Tooth. Didn't hear ya."

"Have you been up all night?" Tooth inquired, her violet eyes wide. Lucy didn't look rested in the least; there was a dark crescent under her eye, and her long hair was messier than usual.  
Lucy nodded, "Yeah. Nightmares."

"Oh, I'm so sorry." Tooth bent over, "What did you dream about, if you don't mind me asking."

Lucy didn't reply. Gruesome pictures flashed across her mind's eye.

She remembered the huge mirror standing before her, split down the middle. Half of her reflection had been normal: still a teenager, but with a gentle, innocent aura. The other half had been something...completely different. It'd been a figure wearing a suit of gray scales under a black cloak. A snake's skull had rested over her face, and a sadistic smile had been planted on her lips.

She shook her head, "It's not important." With a yawn, she held up her creations; they were two identical metal cuffs, "I made these for you."

Tooth's eyebrows disappeared in her bright feathers, "For me? Whatever for?"

With another yawn, Lucy explained, "I noticed that you're the only one on the team besides me that doesn't have a weapon. Santa - I mean North - has his swords, Jack has his staff, Sandy his whips, Molly her gun, and Bunny..." Her breath hitched in her throat. She blinked back tears and lowered the cuffs, looking at her feet.

Tooth's expression softened; she moved her hand from Lucy's head to her shoulder. "Jack told me what you said. What happened to Bunny wasn't your fault; it's Pitch's."

"But why?" Lucy whispered, "Bunny didn't do anything wrong."

"I know, honey." Tooth answered, "Pitch is just...Pitch. He was consumed by the darkness long ago. He doesn't understand things like justice or compassion anymore."

"Must be a lonely life." Lucy answered sullenly. She shook her head to clear it, then held up the cuffs once more, "Anyway, I made these for you. Put them on, please."

"Uh, okay..." Tooth snapped them on with surprising ease. They felt comfortable and light on her wrists, like bracelets.

"Now, press the little green button on the left side."

"What, this one - whoa!" Tooth's question was cut short by a loud _th-wang!_ The moment she'd pressed the button, two curved blades as sharp as broken glass had stuck out. As the tooth fairy examined them, a slow smile appeared on her face.

"Took me all night and a lot of reading." Lucy held up an old, dusty novel written in a language Tooth couldn't decipher. "But in the end, I think I did a good job. Don't you think?"

"I...oh, Lucy, thank you!" Tooth wrapped her arms around Lucy, catching the girl off guard. After a moment, Lucy awkwardly returned the embrace, "No prob." The hug lasted just long enough. When the girls pulled away, Lucy yawned again and rubbed her eye.

"Okay, that's it." Tooth said with all the authority of a mother, "Bedtime, young lady."

"The hell? I'm not four."

"No, but you're exhausted. Go to sleep."

"What if Pitch attacks?" Lucy protested, "I can't just snooze away like Sleeping Beauty while you risk your lives for me!"

"Lucy, honey." Tooth put her hands on the teen's shoulders, forcing her to meet her gaze, "Listen to me. I understand how you feel, but you won't be able to help us if you're too tired to stand. Besides, Molly's got the barrier up. Pitch won't attack."

Lucy didn't seem convinced, but she nodded anyway. The large, warm, comfy bed a few feet away was practically calling her to it like a siren. But she didn't want to give this overgrown bird the satisfaction of knowing she was right. Putting on an irritated charade, Lucy rolled her eyes and removed the too-large black sweater she'd managed to find and crawled under the covers. Tooth smiled and tucked the covers up to Lucy's chin, "Sleep well, Lucy. And relax; nothing's gonna happen."

"I hope not." Lucy muttered to herself as sleep overtook her. The tooth fairy frowned, but she left the room nevertheless, her new weapons in hand.

As she closed the door behind her, Tooth heard loud talking coming from the Globe Room. Tightening her fists, the fairy zipped through the corridors and was amongst her comrads a moment later.

Apart from Bunny, who was still recovering in the infirmary, all the guardians were present. Jack and Molly were bent over blueprints of a familiar-looking palance, silently discussing the best ways to get in. North just stared at the globe with his arms crossed; Tooth's heart lurched at the sight of several more lights dying out. Pitch really was repeating his plan. It took him eight years, but he was doing it.

While they all looked extremely worried, Sandman was the most anxious. He kept pacing back and forth, little hourglasses and clocks made of Dream Sand hovering over his head. After over four centuries of this silent talk, Tooth understood; Sandy was worried about running out of time.

But for _what?_

"Guys," She interjected, "What's going on?"

"Tooth." North rumbled, "No good news." He looked up, his sapphire eyes meeting her violet ones.

"Eets Pitch. Eez Night Mares are attacking Sandy's Dream Palace. Sandy's sand eez turning black as ve speak."

Tooth's stomach dropped. When she spoke, her voice was barely above a murmur, "What?"

"Yeah." Jack interjected, "I just checked Burgess. At least half the kids there had nightmares last night. And on the other side of the world, where it's still night, Night Mares are crawling all over the place."

"But-but how?" Tooth turned to Sandy, "Why didn't you stop them?"

Sandy used sign-language this time: 'There were way too many. It was too much for me to handle. Besides, every time I killed one, two more took its place.'

Tooth's jaw dropped; she turned to the two teenagers, "What're we gonna do about it?"

Molly cracked a grin, "Glad ya asked." She stood up and held up twin pistols, "These are extra-strength explosive bullets, and Frostbite here's got enough horsepower to turn all of Brazil into a giant skating rink." Jack grinned and held up his gleaming shepard's hook for emphasis.

"North's coming, too. His swords will come in handy. Sandy's staying here, just to avoid him dying like last time. So, what do you say?" Molly raised her eyebrows, "Wanna join the party, Tooth?"

Tooth almost backed away...then remembered Lucy's present. She smirked and pressed both buttons on her cuffs. Silver blades popped out, glimmering cruelly in the strong light. Everyone gawked at the sight of Tooth's new toys.

She met their wide, shocked eyes with a confident smile, "I'm in."


	37. Chapter 36: Two Birds, One Stone

Chapter 36: Two Birds, One Stone

Jack cried out as the Night Mare slammed into him full force. He flew backwards, slamming into a gold wall with a grunt. His nerves were on fire, and he felt bruises forming on places he didn't know he had.  
The Night Mare snorted at the sight of him, and that was enough to fuel the sprite's anger. He extracted himself from the wall, meeting the creature's eyes viciously, "Don't know how you guys got in, but I know how you're getting out!" With a cry, he waved his staff. Brilliant white bolts shot through the air and pierced the Night Mare. Black sand splattered across the walls and floor, glittering like dark diamonds.

Jack grinned. He'd only just arrived with Sandy and he'd already taken out one! Of course, the Sandman's palace was still oozing with Fearlings, but it felt good to burn one like an ant under a magnifying glass.

Placing the staff on his shoulders, the guardian of fun prepared to eliminate some more...when the Nightmare Sand began to move.  
Jack froze, his eyes wide.

The sand surged like an obsidian river, glittering in the golden sunlight. It separated into two masses; then, they took on the shapes of two more Night Mares, these ones having two heads.  
Jack was so shocked he almost stumbled. His breath caught in his throat, and his heart was pounding with panic.

The two-headed Night Mares stared at him for a moment. Then, with blood-chilling roars, they charged towards him.

Jack screamed and hurtled out of the room, slamming the door behind him. When the door buckled, he backed away, hugging his staff as though it were a blanket.

"What the heck...?" He could hardly believe what he'd just witnessed. He'd fought Night Mares before. They were supposed to die when he hit them, not come back to life! Furthermore, they shouldn't have been able to become even more frightening. Jack had never felt so confused in his 317 years.

He'd been so lost in thought, he hadn't noticed the inky tentacles curling around his ankles.

"Wah!" Jack fell on his chest with a solid thud, the air knocked right out of him. His staff clattered on the floor right next to him. He barely had time to gasp for breath; the cackling creature effortlessly dragged him across the gold floors. Jack yelped and clawed for his staff, but the distance between them was rapidly growing. He tried to hold on to something - anything - that would help him.  
"Lemme go!" He shouted.

"Hi-yaah!"

A second later, a high-pitched scream echoed through Sandman's palace. Black sand coated the winter sprite. Jack winced, disgust seeping in his system, "What the hell?!"

"You're welcome!"

Jack froze, then looked up. Tooth stood before him, a triumphant grin on her tan face. She was wearing bracelets with curved blades sticking out of them. Her bright feathers were stained with Nightmare Sand, but she couldn't care less.

Jack had never been so happy to see the queen of fairies. "Tooth!"

Tooth giggled, her cheeks reddening, "Hey, Jack. Are we too late to join the party?"

"_We?_" Jack echoed, ecstacy and relief bubbling in his heart.

Tooth held a hand out, offering to help him up. Jack accepted it, narrowly avoiding being cut by the blades. The fairy hoisted him up with a grunt. As Jack brushed off his sweatshirt, Tooth gestured to the gold-encrusted window, "Ta-da."

Jack followed her hand, and a huge grin formed on his lips. Down below in Sandman's gardens (flower beds of every kind, statues marking the entrances, and a fountain at the center, all made of Dream Sand), the guardians were fighting the Night Mares.  
Bunny kept throwing egg bombs at the flying, demonic horses; North's swords were a silvery blur; Sandman was using his whips to eliminate two or three at a time; Molly was standing in front of the fountain, shooting at anything black.

But something was missing.

He turned to Tooth, his eyes wide with anxiety, "Where's Lucy?"

"Oh, she's fine. Don't worry." Tooth put a hand on her friend's shoulder, "She was up all night making these for me." She held up her wrist, "So I put her to bed."

Jack released all the air in his lungs, placing his hand on his heart, "That's a relief." Tooth smirked knowingly before handing him his beloved shepard's hook, "Come on. We have Night Mares to kill."

* * *

And kill they did. The six guardians fought harder than they ever had, but it proved to be more difficult than they had anticipated. While the Night Mares stayed dead at first, they came to life right after they were destroyed. Not only that, but they became even more terrifying and deadly upon resurrecting. One grew long black teeth like a shark's and nearly bit Molly's leg off. Another turned into some awful horse-bat hybrid. Another spat knives.

"What's goin' on 'ere?!" Bunny shouted as he caught his sticky black boomerang, "I thought Pitch was weakinin'!"

"He should be!" Molly shouted as she ducked, barely avoiding a flying black knife. "He's only got a few believers now! Even _I_ have more than him!"

"Then what's with the Rocky Horror Show?" Jack demanded as he sliced a Night Mare's head off.

"I don't know!" Molly replied in exasperation, "He'd need lots of sand to make these-" She trailed off, her stormy-gray eyes widening.  
The girl spun around, scanning the area for her mute comrad. "Sandy!" Her shriek immedately won his attention.  
"Where do you keep your Dream Sand?"

Everyone looked at her like she'd lost her mind. Even Sandman looked a little floored, but he still pointed to the castle. He mouthed, _'In the basement.'_

Molly was racing towards the palace a second later. Jack dropped everything and followed her, his bony legs pumping.

The girl shot at two other Night Mares on the way there. Jack ducked to avoid the crumbling sand. Molly slid down the banister and landed smoothly on her feet. When she saw the doorway, her jaw dropped.

The large gold-and-copper door had been ripped from its hinges, and the walls were coated in deep scratches, like some great beast had dragged its claws against them. The chamber where the Dream Sand was kept was filled with hissing noises, as well as roars and neighs.

Molly and Jack looked at each other, a shared fear passing between them.

"The sand..." Jack could hardly say it, "The Night Mares are infecting it."

Molly reloaded her pistols with trembling hands, "I hope they had a good time, 'cuz I'm not letting them leave this place alive."  
Jack grabbed her wrist, catching her off guard. He looked right into her eyes, his own gleaming with courage.

"We'll take 'em down." He vowed, "Together."

Molly looked hesitant, but after a minute, she gave him a small nod, "Together."

Then, they rushed inside. Needless to say, they were scared stiff at the view awaiting them.

The chamber, which had once been filled with glittering gold sand and the occasional delightful fantasy, was now a nest of monsters. Squeaking bats soared through the air like stormclouds, and the floor had become an ocean of Nightmare Sand. The teens could see all kinds of horrid creatures appearing, then disappearing in the dark waters. Several of them slithered out of the waves and exited the chamber, ready to attack the guardians outside.

In the midst of it all, on a little island, was a familiar figure. It had a worn-out, black hooded cloak and a suit of gray scales. Its hands were hidden with leather gloves with claws at the ends. A large serpent's skull covered its face. It was waving and motioning with its hands, like an insane maestro commanding a hellish orchestra.

Molly's gasp brought the person's attention to the two teens. It only took a second for Jack to recognize the figure.

"You're that person from the swamp." He held onto his staff with a white-knuckled grip, "The one who shocked the kids."

The figure smirked, "Guilty."

Jack had to wince at the person's voice. It was neither male or female, not deep or high. It was, according to him, the voice of the Devil.

"What do you want?" Molly raised her gun, aiming for the person's heart.

The figure threw its head back, its cackles bouncing off the walls. The noise rubbed like sandpaper against the teens' eardrums.

"What a silly question." The figure answered, "I don't want anything big; just my father. I want us to be a real family, and an immortal one, too. But if we're going to be together forever, you're going to have to step down."

Jack frowned, "Pitch? I thought he wanted Lucy."

The figure sneered, "That foolish, sweet-toothed woman? Ha! She's so puny and weak! Though I'll admit we need her - _I_ need her - for our plans. In fact, if it wasn't for her, I wouldn't be here right now."

"What do you mean by that?" Jack growled, raising his staff. The end of it accumulated with supressed, wintry energy.

The figure scoffed, "Didn't Father tell you? You can't kill fear, Jack."

"I can try!" Jack zapped at the person, a flash of bright frost illuminating the gloom. The figure simply vanished in a puff of black smoke.

The teens looked around desperately, trying to spot the figure. They didn't think to look behind them.

The person grabbed Molly by the long braid, then wrapped an arm around her throat. Molly shouted and cursed, trying to fight the person off, but it was useless. She aimed the pistol at the person's face, but the figure leaned forward and _shattered the gun with its teeth._

"Jack!" Molly screamed, her voice dripping with terror.

The winter spirit took the hint and fired another energy bolt. The figure held Molly in front of it; the bolt hit the girl, who screamed in pain. Jack gasped, lowering his staff. The figure chortled, "Good boy, good boy." Still using Molly as a shield, the person reached the door.

"Oh, and if you were wondering," The figure said, as if just remembering something, "I'm the Sweet Serpent. Remember that name; you'll be trembling to it very soon."  
With that, the person tossed Molly to the floor and whistled sharply. The Nightmare creatures got the signal and poured out of the doorway. The guardians could only watch in horror as the storm of beasts sailed into the sky, spreading out to fill humans' hearts with horror.

Back in the basement, Jack knelt and placed Molly's head on his lap. Concern for his friend hummed through his veins as he checked her temperature, then her pulse. "A-are you okay?" He asked, trying not to sound as frightened as he felt.  
Molly's heart was beating so fast from the shock of it all, she was sure Jack could hear it. She swallowed hard, trying to get the feel back in her limbs, "I can't feel my legs. Or arms."

"Yeah, sorry about that." Jack's pale cheeks were crimson, "I only wanted to immobilize that guy, so we could interrogate him. It'll wear off."

Molly sighed and held a hand over her eyes, "How bad is it?"

Jack looked around. While there was still enough Dream Sand to make sure there would be sweet dreams to come, it was impossible not to tell the difference in quantity. Jack would guess three-fifths of it was gone. Obviously, Pitch wasn't out to annihilating good dreams; he'd simply needed more sand to make those...those _monstrosities_. The more fear spread, the stronger he'd become, and the sand in his possession simply hadn't been enough. He was out for power all over again, after eight years of submission.  
But _why?!_ For revenge? If that were the case, why attack now? Had he needed time to replentish his numbers? And how could he be doing this? He was weak by now, wasn't he?

He winced, "Bad."

Molly groaned, "Who was that guy?"

"The Sweet Serpent." Jack invoulentarily tightened his grip on her, "Pitch's apprentice. The one who stabbed you, and the one who turned Halloween into a nightmare a few years ago."

"He's helping Pitch." Molly murmured, "Of course."

"We'll stop them, M." Jack tried to sound encouraging, "We _will_."

Little did they know that one Fearling had remained. It was in the form of a spider no bigger than a thimble, but it still registered the entire conversation.

* * *

Pitch witnessed the entire confab through the eyes of his spider. He chuckled as he admired his Night Mares' work; while he was still stuck in the wheelchair, the cracks in his skin were slowly closing. Not only that, but with a diversion like this, they wouldn't return to the Pole in time. He was hitting two birds with one rock. With the Dream Sand they'd stolen, his Night Mares would spread enough fear to snuff out a good number of lights.

Now, the guardians would have a taste of their own medicine. They'd know how it felt to be cast in the shadows, to be forgotten. He didn't want them to disappear, oh no. He merely wanted to teach them a lesson, just like last time.

But this time, he had help.

Speak of the Devil. The figure stepped forward and knelt down before Pitch, "Father, we managed to make a total of 50 kids stop believing in America alone. If we continue like this, half of your health will be restored."

"Good." Pitch nodded, "Be sure to take your time; too much fear all at once causes chaos, both for humans and for us."

"Yes, sir." The Sweet Serpent bowed her head before transforming into a black snake, slithering off into the Realm.

Pitch smirked, "What an intriguing Fearling. And my daughter's first, no less!" He held his head up like a proud father, "She will be of good use for the time being. It's nice to know my daughter's memories weren't lost. Just...misplaced. Speaking of which..." He waved his hand, and black sand escaped his robes. It shifted and frothed before showing him a dark bedroom. A familiar girl was lying on her side, hugging her pillow.

"Melinda, my angel. Can you hear me, by any chance?" Pitch reached out and stroked the image, trying to remember how it felt to stroke that face, "Won't you come home to your father before another kind of angel takes him?" He leaned forward, almost whispering into the girl's ear, "The day has died, my dear."

The girl's visible eye slowly opened.

It was completely golden.


	38. Chapter 37: Unrest

Chapter 37: Unrest

"Ow!" Molly winced as she climbed out of the sleigh. Jack grimaced, looking at his staff shamefully. Looking at his friend - at the damage _he'd_ caused - was too much for him to handle right now. "How you feeling, M?" He asked, not completely certain he wanted an answer.  
"Uh - kinda numb here and there, but I'll be okay." Molly replied, sugarcoating the truth. To be honest with herself, she felt anything _but_ okay. Her insides felt like they'd been sitting in the freezer, and her limbs were like frozen, unfeeling chunks of meat. Considering what she'd seen Jack do to his enemies, though, Molly counted herself lucky. Being a little stiff was rather trifling if you compared it to being smothered in snow. Besides, why should she make her friend feel even worse? He was practically reeking of self-disgust.

Jack sighed and hopped out of the sleigh, "I'd say that was an epic fail. How about you guys?"

"No, Jack." North shook his head as the yetis unhooked the reindeer, "Zis eez ze dawn of our great success. Zee thing ve learned today vill serve us vell in zee future. Now, ve know 'ow much stronger Pitch eez, and zat 'e has zat apprentice to help him. Ve shall not underestimate 'im again."

"Yeah," Molly snorted, "And in the meantime, our believers are shrinking, and so are our powers. By the time we know the magnitude of Pitch's power, our own will be pitiful."

"Well, aren't you a ray of sunshine." Jack murmured, though he hardly felt more optimistic. The situation looked alarming, and it was getting worse. If they didn't do something to stop Pitch's return, it could very well be the end of them.

As much as they hated to admit it, the guardians depended on the children more than anything else. The more believers a guardian has, the more power and longevity is guarenteed. Sometimes, Jack wondered if his allies were really selfish, deep down. At times, he couldn't help thinking: if their own existence didn't depend on it, would the guardians really be so willing to protect the children of the world?

His thoughts were interrupted by Tooth flying out of the sleigh, her wings beating the air with a melodic hum. She forced a smile, "Don't worry, guys: we beat him once. We'll do it again."  
North pointed at her, "That zee spirit."

Sandman grinned and shot everyone a thumbs-up.

Jack cracked a smile at his friends' optimism. After a moment, he found his spirits lifting a bit. Some of the fog lifted from his mood. It may have been hard to stay positive after the day's unfortunate chain of events, but come on! They weren't in bad shape; they still had an abundant amount of power, and they still had their base. All they had to do was crush the Boogeyman before he gained too much power. It was simple logic, no?

His foot brushed against something soft. Frowning, Jack looked down. A black slipper was lying on the icy ground.  
He arched a brow and turned to the large Russian man, "Hey, North?" The man looked at the winter sprite, who held up the slipper, "Is this yours?"

North frowned, his black eyebrows meeting in the middle and shaking hands. He shook his head, "No. Zat eez zee pair I gave Lucy..." He trailed off, his bright blue eyes slowly widening. Jack and Molly looked at each other, sharing the same fear. Then, they dashed to the door leading out of the 'garage' and into the freezing tundra. Once Jack opened the door, he felt his heart plummet in his stomach.

There, in the snow illuminated by the moon's glare, was a set of footprints. And they looked fresh.

* * *

In the dead silence of the North Pole, a single figure moved among the icy giants. It left only footprints, making muffled crushing noises as its bare feet broke through the snow. The chilly wind blew every so often, sending the looser snowflakes in a wild dance, but the figure hardly noticed. It kept walking in a straight line, never looking sideways or back.

Lucy didn't stop hiking through the frozen horizon, even if her lips and fingertips were going blue from the cold and snowflakes rested on her like a blanket. She kept after the familiar, velvety voice that was always just out of reach.

_"Come home...come home..."_

Lucy's golden eye shimmered in the moonlight like icy topaz, and the tiniest of smiles graced her cracked lips.

* * *

Jack flew over the snow-covered flat-land, panic fuelling his movements. He knew that running would've taken too long, and in all his immortal life, Jack had never felt such a need to hurry. He hadn't even brought the others; they would have just slowed him down. His head was pounding with fear, concern, and anger. Millions of questions appeared before the winter spirit, and not being able to answer them made him that much more jittery.

What was going on? This had to be Pitch's work; no one in their right mind would venture off in the Pole alone, at night! Pitch had to be controlling Lucy somehow. But how had Pitch accomplished this? Molly had that spell protecting the Pole, right? It should've been impossible for him to pull something like this off. And _why_ was the Boogeyman doing this? What was so freaking special about Lucy? He _had_ an apprentice: he and Molly had met the nutcase at Sandy's Palace.

Jack gritted his teeth as he followed the footprints. Whatever the Boogeyman's intentions were, Jack wasn't going to let him hurt Lucy.

Suddenly, as if the tundra had been waiting for him to make that decision, Jack caught sight of his friend. He beamed in relief...but the smile vanished as quickly as it had come.

Why, you ask?

Because Lucy was standing on the edge of a cliff, and she didn't exactly look steady.

"LUCY!" He screamed, darting towards her.

Lucy didn't hear him. Her blank eyes peered down at the foot of the cliff, where inky shadows shifted like the ocean's waters. Standing in the darkness was a tall, lean man with a kneeling Fearling by his side. Well, more accurately, he was sitting in a wheelchair. The Fearling - who was robed in a torn black cape and a serpent's skull for a mask - leered at the girl. "Well," The Fearling purred, "The guest of honor has arrived."  
The King of Nightmares ignored his - no, _**Lucy's**_ - creation and held a hand out to the girl. His gold eyes were locked on hers, and he repeated the words he'd been whispering, "_Come home._"

"Home..." Lucy started to lean forward, arms spread out like a bird...

Pitch smiled. Melinda was finally coming back to him. Things were back in their proper place, and for once, Tsar hadn't intervened. It seemed too good to be true.

"LUCY! NO!" Jack slammed into the girl, sending them both in the snow. Pitch frowned, his eyes widening in shock and rage. That boy again?! When would he end his meddling?

Jack pinned a grunting Lucy down. He placed her wrists on her back and held them there with one hand while wrapping an arm around her throat. It wasn't easy at all; the girl was fighting like a fish out of water. She was squirming under his body like an eel, trying desperately to get away.  
"Lucy? Lu! C'mon, snap out of it! Hey!" He shouted, trying to bring his friend out of whatever trance Pitch had put her under.

"_Home...the Realm! The Realm!_" Lucy screeched, her eyes squeezed shut.

"Lucy!" Jack moved his hands so he was hugging the girl instead of restraining her. He rested his cheek on her shoulder blade. "That's enough! You can stop! Lucy..._please. **Stop**_." His voice broke at the last two words. He didn't understand why, but fear clotted his throat. He was ready to keep her down like this all night if it kept her from jumping to her death. Jack couldn't let her die. She was simply too dear to him.  
Amazingly, his words had an effect. Lucy stopped struggling, and after a few seconds, she winced. Even though Jack couldn't see it, the girl's eye changed from gold to chestnut. It took a minute for her to realize where she was; when she did, she gasped and tried to sit up. Jack was so surprised he let go of her. Goosebumps formed on her bare arms, and her fingers felt ready to fall off. She wrapped her arms around herself, trying to stay warm. Of course, it didn't help much.

"Jack..." She said the name before she could stop herself. Tears of relief filled the guardian's eyes. After a moment's hesitation, he pulled her into a hug. "It's okay, Lu. It was...just a nightmare. It's over."

Lucy nodded as her fear began to fade. She fully returned the embrace, grateful for the winter spirit's presence.

Little did the two know that they were being watched.

Pitch growled lowly in his throat, his cracked face set into a look of hatred. Once again, the guardians had taken something from him. He'd been so close, so terribly close to having his daughter back...and Jack had ruined it.

But the worst part was...even though Pitch knew he couldn't blame Lucy for not remembering, seeing her like this, hugging that walking icicle...with that smile on her face...it made Pitch want to scratch his eyes out.

Lucy was actually _happy._

Without him.

For the first time in centuries, a tear rolled down the Nightmare King's cheek.


	39. Chapter 38: Laughs and Tears

**Okay, first off I wanted to say I am SO SORRY about not writing sooner. It's just, things in my family have been _really_ stressful lately. My mother and stepfather never stop arguing, and the atmosphere is always heavy in my house. My mom's even judging my every move, and my stepfather just lies in bed all day because he's too lazy to get up. It's hard for me to concentrate in an enviroment like that.**

**Okay, now that my apology and rant is over, on with the story! Please leave review! This is extra-long, to make up for the time. Contains JackxLucy!  
**

* * *

Chapter 38: Laughs and Tears

As morning light spilled into the Pole's kitchen like a golden veil, Molly poured hot chocolate into a mug. It was Jack's favorite mug; it was bright blue in color with Frosty the Snowman painted on it. Then, she filled a second mug with the frothy, sweet beverage. She figured Lucy would like this cup. Considering that the newcomer dressed in all black and went around with black-rimmed eyes, Molly deducted that she was something of a Goth. Ergo, she'd scavenged through most of the cupboards to find a mug that suited the girl's taste: it was a Nightmare Before Christmas cup, with a purple interior.

Humming 'I'll Try' to herself, she filled a dinner plate with freshly-baked cookies and placed it on the tray. She picked up the loaded tray and headed for the guest room. Not surprisingly, there was a 'Do Not Disturb' sign hanging on the doorknob.

Molly smirked and rolled her eyes. Without bothering to knock first, she kicked the door open. Again, to no surprise, the room inside was still dark. Molly entered the room and put the tray on the desk.

For the first time that morning, the girl recieved a surprise: there were tools and scraps of metal strewn on the desk, and a dark red stain in the wood made Molly's stomach turn. For a second, she was confused. Then, she remembered Tooth's new weapons. So, Lucy had been the one to make them. Impressive. It was no surprise she'd hurt herself while creating them. Molly had seen those blades in action: they'd sliced through Night Mares like they were smoke.

A photo resting on a hammer caught the girl's attention. Arching a brow, she snatched it and held it up. It was old and torn, with ripped edges. As her eyes grew accustomed to the dimness, Molly made out three figures: Jack and two children. The guardian of fun was bent over so he was at the same level of the two kids, and he had an arm resting on each of the children's shoulders. He had a huge smile on his pale face; Molly had never seen him smile so widely.  
One of the children was obviously Jamie. Molly would recognize those bright eyes and huge smile anywhere. Dressed appropriately for winter, he was leaning to the right and grabbing a handful of the girl's short hair.

Now, Molly didn't recognize the girl immediately. She was a little on the short side, with wavy hair cut jaw-length and olive skin. With one hand clinging to Jack's arm, the girl was laughing and pushing Jamie away. Her black clothes contrasted strongly with the white snow around them.

Black clothes. With a jolt, Molly realized she was looking at Lucy. She actually felt stupid for not recognizing her sooner. Aside from the short hair and darker skin, everything was the same: the same heart-shaped face, the same shortness, the same eyes...

Wait.

Something wasn't right here. She'd seen this girl before...but where?

She'd have to look at her teeth later. She'd never looked at them before, since she hadn't really wanted to know her past. If you wake up on the grounds of an insane asylum, would you want to know your origins? Didn't think so. But maybe the time had come. Why did Lucy's child self look so familiar, and what was this feeling of dread Molly had building up in her chest?

"Mmm..." A male voice groaned from the bed, sounding a bit raspy from the lack of use. Molly dropped the photo and whirled around, trying to box up her emotions.

Jack sat up in the bed, rubbing the dream sand out of his eyes. Lucky for Molly, he was still fully dressed. Once he lowered his hand, he noticed his friend and went holliberry-red, "Uh, I can explain!"  
"No need." Molly tapped her temple with her finger, "I get visions, remember? I know what happened last night: Lucy had a sleepwalking episode and you brought her back here. Then, you decided to stay the night so she wouldn't run off again."

Jack sighed in relief as his face regained its usual snowy color, "Yeah, that's right." His face darkened as he looked at his friend, "Pitch tried to get her to jump off a cliff."

Molly's smirk vanished. She nodded, "I know. I've been doing research on the Boogeyman. You know, to see if this was a technique he used a lot." She shook her head, "He never does something this direct. Back when he first became who he is now, he liked to invade the minds of his enemies and gave them visions designed to torture them out of their sanity." She stepped forward, seriousness dripping from every word, "Only after _months_ of torment, only when he had them literally begging him for death, did he put 'em out of their misery."

Jack swallowed hard, trying to get the images out of his head. Considering how Pitch had impaled Sandman with a harpoon without hesitation...and how he'd tried to strike him from behind...it wasn't the most shocking thing in the world. But it was still enough to send his pulse on overload.

"Where are you going with this?" He whispered.

Molly played with her braid, "This isn't Pitch's style. He's kind of like a cat: he likes to play with his food first."

Jack's eyes narrowed. He jumped to his feet and snatched his staff, "We're _not_ his food. If he thinks he was jerk us around, he's dead wrong."

Molly grinned, her eyes glinting, "Agreed." The smile vanished, "But we gotta move fast. I just checked the globe with Sandy. Over 40% of the kids stopped believing in us."

Jack felt his heart sink like a stone in a pond. He couldn't help thinking of Bunnymund, who was still in the infirmary. With the lights slowly going out, how would he be able to recover?

Molly held up her index finger, "But Sandy has an idea. You know how dreams can turn into nightmares?"

"Yeah." Jack nodded, "So?"

"_So_," Molly answered with a huff, "The contrary can happen, too. A nightmare can turn into a dream."

"Yeah..." Jack's icy-blue eyes widened, "Just like eight years ago. When Pitch attacked Jamie and the others with Night Mares, the sand turned gold." He locked eyes with Molly. "What's the plan?"

"We need some Night Mares." Molly said, wincing. "If we have a few of those damned creatures to work with, we can use them as test subjects. We can bring Sophie and a few others kids in, and they can turn the Night Mares back into Dream Sand with us watching. If we have more Dream Sand, Sandy can make kids keep believing in us."

"Of course!" Jack grinned. He hopped on his staff the same way a monkey would jump on a branch. "I'll bring some kids from Burgess. When do ya want 'em over here?"

"By recess time." Molly answered, "That way, they won't get into trouble for not being in class."

"You got it." Jack nodded, "Who's going to round up the Night Mares?"

"Sandy, North and I." Molly gave him a mock-salute, "You get the kids." Her eyes shifted to the figure in the bed. A smile flickered on her face, "Bring your girlfriend if you want."

Jack's face grew hot. "She's not my-!"

The door closed before he could finish his protest.

* * *

A few hours later, Jack and Lucy were waiting for the school bell to ring and announce recess. The winter spirit sat on his toes on a bench - the same bench, he comprehended, that he'd first met Lucy on - with his staff leaning against his shoulder. Lucy, clad in an ankle-long black trench coat she'd managed to dig up, rubbed her arms with a wince.

Jack arched a dark brow, "Cold?"

"No..." Lucy's wince deepened. She shook her head in bewilderment. "I don't get it. My arms and legs keep hurting." _'Hurting'_ was putting it lightly. Lucy felt like her blood cells were on fire, and this had been going on since Jack had brought her back last night. Once they'd arrived in Burgess, the pain had passed a bit, but it was still enough to grab her attention.

Jack's expression softened. He scooted closer to her, shrinking the gap between them. Lucy stopped massaging her arms; color stained her pale cheeks. After a second's pause, she broke the silent, "Thanks for, y'know...last night."

"Ah," Jack shrugged, trying to act like it wasn't a big deal, "No sweat. I save damsels all the time."

Lucy arched a brow, "Really?"

"Yeah." Jack nodded enthusiastically, "Like once, Tooth suggested Bunny wear braces, and he went all egg explosives on her. I had to swoop in and turn him into a bunny-cicle again. Or another time, when Pippa pissed her teacher off by arguing about how her A should've been an A+. I had to freeze Pippa's tongue to keep her from getting suspended. Or-"

"Okay, okay, I get it." Lucy interrupted between fits of giggles, "You're a real Superman. Well, minus the cape."

Jack grimaced, "I hate capes. They weigh you down and get caught in everything. That's why I got rid of that old brown cloak I wore when I was a human."

Lucy paused. With growing embaressment, she caught on that she didn't know who Jack had been before becoming...well, _this_. She could clearly recall him telling her of how he'd been isolated for three centuries, but she'd never asked who he'd been in life. She just hadn't wanted to rub salt in the wounds. How could Jack have felt, knowing that whatever family or friends he'd once had was long-dead? How must it have felt, knowing that in the early times he could've visited them, but his amnesia kept him from doing so?

Now, though, Lucy found herself curious. Had he been the same person he was now - mischievous, sarcastic, and all-around fun-loving - or had he been different? Oh God, could he have been a bully? A sadist, even?

She asked, "Can I ask you something?"

"You just did." Jack replied with a grin, "And sure."

Lucy smiled timidly before asking, "Okay...what were you like when you were alive?"

Jack's eyes widened in shock. He lost his balance and tumbled in the snow. Fast as quicksilver, he regained his footing and ran a hand through his snowy hair. "Uh..." He avoided her eyes, "I don't really remember much. I mean, I saw my memories with my teeth, but...they were just _pictures_. I don't remember everything." He cut himself off, not wanting to show Lucy how much this bothered him. From what he'd seen, he'd had a loving family, friends, a sister...all long-gone. And he didn't even have memories to connect him to them.

Lucy said nothing. She knew how it felt to be oblivious of your own recollections. Hell, just a few nights ago, she'd woken up as a teenager! She could understand how Jack was feeling.  
She placed a hand on his shoulder. That gesture alone said what words couldn't. Jack glanced at the hand resting on his hoodie. There was a silver ring on each finger, and the nails were immaculately painted black. But it was still his friend's hand. Smiling softly, he placed his hand over hers. Her hand immediately went blue from the cold, but Lucy didn't pull away.

After a long, comfortable silence, Jack said one word: "Thanks."

Lucy smiled, "That's what friends are for."

On that moment, the bell rang. Its shrill cries echoed through the frigid air like a siren. The two teenagers looked up just in time to see an ocean of kids pour out into the playground. In seconds, the jungle gym and swings were occupied and multiple games of hop-scotch took place. It filled the guardian of fun with mirth to see all these joyful kids, all of whom were his and the guardians' responsibility.

Now, all they needed were his first believers.

Right on cue, Lucy pointed, "There, on the slide! Sophie!"

Jack followed her finger. Sure enough, Sophie was sitting by herself on the slide. Her face was as closed as a steel gate. Jack held up his staff and froze a path of ice in front of him. Grabbing Lucy's wrist, he hopped on the ice. Lucy yelped as they skidded across the playground; involuntarily, she grabbed Jack's arm. The winter spirit smirked at her.

A second later, they were standing in front of the sullen-faced blonde. "Hey, Soph." Jack greeted cherrily, "Why the long face? Was it mystery meat in the cafeteria?"

"No." Sophie whispered without looking up from her snow boots, "It's my classmates. Most of 'em don't believe in you guys anymore."

Despite already knowing, Jack felt like someone had stabbed him with a white-hot stake. Swallowing hard, he forced a smile, "Well, we're gonna have to fix that, won't we?"

Sophie looked up, her bright green eyes swimming with hope. "Really? We can?"

"Of course we can." Jack grinned, "In fact, kiddo, that's why Lucy and I came: we need you and some of your friends to come to the Pole. We need Dream Sand, and fast."

Sophie looked confused for a moment. Then, she got it, "Oooh, I get it! Like what Jamie did back when the mean Booger man tried to take over!"

"_Don't you talk about him like that!_" Lucy suddenly snapped hotly. She looked ready to slap the child. Jack stared at his old friend like she'd grown a second pair of arms. He'd seen her angry, but never _this_ much. Sophie looked shocked, too, and hurt.  
Lucy blinked, the anger fading from her eye. She looked at Sophie's wounded expression, then at her black combat boots. "I-I'm sorry." She played with her long hair, "I don't know what got over me there."

"It's...it's okay." Sophie whispered. An awkward silence hung over the three for a moment. Then, Jack pulled Sophie to her feet and gave her a gentle push, "Look, just go get your friends, okay?"

"Okay." Sophie nodded before running for the jungle gym. She looked only too glad to get away from Lucy.

Jack turned to Lucy, "Look, I know you've always had this anxiety problem-"

"I'm sorry!" Lucy interrupted, looking like a rabbit caught in a snare, "I really don't know what made me say that!"

"What're you, Linda Blair from _The Exorcist_?" Jack retorted, "Ya gotta be careful how you talk to kids. They take anything seriously!"

"I know that, Jack!" Lucy snapped, "I was a kid once, too." She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. Just for a second, Jack remembered how Pitch did that all the time. He shrugged it off as the girl looked at him with genuine remorse, "Look, I'm sorry. I swear, I'll be more careful. Okay?"

"...Okay." Jack nodded, but the ugly monster of doubt had reared its head. Why was Lucy defending Pitch? He could sort of understand why Pitch would want to get his hands on her; if he scared her all day every day, he could have an ongoing supply of energy. But having it work the other way around...? That someone was actually sticking up for that monster...?

Jack shook it off as Sophie came back accompanied by three other kids. He could think about it later. Right now, they had bigger fish to fry.

As the kids took in Jack, their eyes widened in delighted surprise and fascination. When they saw Lucy in all her black glory, though, they took a few steps away from her. Lucy felt a bit offended, but she supposed it was to be expected. Human beings, especially children, tended to find anything dark - be it a belladonna berry or an inky alley - to be threatening.  
"Guys," Sophie said happily, "This is Jack Frost. Remember, the guy who brings us all the snow days?"

There was a chorus of 'oh, yeah's and 'cool's. Jack spoke up, "Hey, kids." He knelt down so he was at their eye level, "Look, there's something very important the guardians have to do, and we need your help. Can I count on you?"

The kids cheered, "YEAH!"

Jack's smile lit up the whole playground. Lucy tried to ignore her heart rate picking up. "Great." The white-haired boy stood up and pulled something out from his hoodie pocket, "Then off we go."  
Lucy recognized the object in a flash. She smirked, "North's gonna kill you for stealing his snow globe."  
"I didn't steal it!" Jack protested, clutching it protectively to his chest, "I borrowed it."

Lucy's smirk grew, "That's what you said about my gingerbread house back when I was ten."

The kids giggled while Jack crimsoned. "A-a-a-anyway," He shook the snowglobe, "Next stop: Santa's office." He threw the snow globe, and the portal ripped open in front of them.

* * *

Ten minutes later, after the five children had had an exclusive tour of the Pole and gouged themselves with cookies and eggnog, North decided that it was time to carry on the plan. Lucy tried not to look at how he depended on his cane now.

"Okay, little children," He cooed softly, herding the kids in the 'office', "ve need you to touch zees Night Mares. I promise, no harm vil befall you."

Sophie tugged on North's crimson coat, "Why?"

"Because only children like you can turn nightmare back into dreams." North explained, "And right now, ve all need zem. Can you do zis for us?"

For a moment, Lucy thought the children would chicken out. But one by one, they put on their brave faces and nodded.

Sophie was the first to step forward. "I'm ready."

North nodded, ruffled the girl's wild hair, and turned to the door in front of them, "Molly!"

The door swung open. Molly, with her arm in a sling, dragged a small Night Mare by the mane. She growled, "Come on, you stupid animal! Move!" The horse neighed crossly, dragging its hooves against the stone floor. The kids stood deathly still, petrified at the sight of the Night Mare. Lucy, who was chewing her shirt collar from the burning in her body, blinked when she saw the dark creature. Something about it seemed...frighteningly familiar.

"N..." The name forced itself on her lips, "Nyx?"

The horse's head shot up at the sound of Lucy's voice, however low it might have been. It snapped its gaze to hers and whinnied again, this time with joy. Molly frowned at this, but shrugged it off and turned to the kids, "Okay, munchkins. You all know the drill: touch the Night Mare, and it'll turn into a dream horse."

"I'll do it." Not giving herself time to take it back, Sophie ran to the neighing horse and touched its side. Almost instantly, the black sand brightened to the color of Aztec gold. For some reason, Lucy felt her heart lurch. She backed away as the other Night Mares were brought in. One by one, they were all changed into dreamsand beings. Sandy, who looked like a kid in a candy store, sent the dream horses into the night to bring children sweet dreams.

And, with a little luck, their belief in the guardians.

Lucy stood in the sidelines as the children, who still had twenty minutes before recess was over, decided to play hide-and-seek. The teenage girl had no intention of joining in. Frankly, this game had always bored her, even as a child. She'd been more of a Scrabble kind of kid.  
Besides, the pain in her limbs was impossible to ignore now. She felt like she'd stuck her arms and legs in boiling water, and the feeling was growing with every moment.  
Just when she was debating whether or not to retreat to her room, she felt someone pull on her black skirt.

Looking down, her chestnut eye met the bright green ones of Sophie Bennett. Lucy smiled in spite of herself, "Hey, Soph." She knelt down, "I'm...sorry about yelling at ya back there."

"Why'd you do it?" Sophie asked, "Pitch is mean! Jamie said so. I just said something that's true."

"Well, yeah...but a little fear is actually good." Lucy explained.

Sophie tilted her head, "How?"

"Well..." Lucy thought for a moment, "Why do you think children don't want to pet cobras or skateboard in the middle of a busy highway?"

Sophie blinked, "'Cuz they're afraid."

"Right." Lucy nodded, "If we're not afraid of doing stuff that could hurt or even kill us, we'd die. The human race wouldn't last a day. Pitch helps us." She tapped her nose, "Even you."

Sophie blinked again. Lucy could see that her words had sunk in. She let the child ponder over her speech for a moment before saying, "But I still shouldn't have yelled. Forgive me?"

Sophie grinned mischieviously, "If you play hide-and-seek."

Lucy fought back the urge to groan out loud. Just one round. How terrible could it be? Besides, this was to make up for her blast of anger.

She nodded, "Okay. I hide, you seek."

Sophie simpered excitedly, "Okay! I'll count to twenty!"

"Okay." Lucy took the little girl's hands and placed them over her eyes, "No peeking." Her response was a giggle.

With that, Lucy bolted down the hall.

"One, two, three..."

The girl scanned her surroundings. There was a closet, but with all the heavy fur coats inside, Lucy doubted she'd be comfortable.

"...four, five, six, seven..."

Lucy saw a cardboard box and considered stepping in...before seeing what a stupid hiding place that in exasperation, she looked around for somewhere - anywhere - to hide. Ah! There was a wooden pillar as tall and thick as a tree trunk in the far corner. It was shrouded in the darkness and wide enough to hide three Lucys. Piece of cake.

"...eight, nine, ten..."

Lucy slid behind the pillar. As she did, her arm brushed against the wall. It was like someone had stabbed her there with a needle. Lucy slapped a hand over her mouth, muffling her yelp of agony.

"...eleven, twelve, thirteen..."

"Oh, God." Lucy rubbed her arm, desperately trying to soothe the pain. It was no use; her entire arm was on fire. Beads of sweat formed on her neck and back. Her breathing sped up as she tried to contain herself.

"...fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, seventeen..."

Lucy squeezed her eyes shut, biting her lip to block out her whimpers. Before she could register what was happening, her arm from the elbow down _fell_ off.

"...eighteen, nineteen, twenty!" Sophie practically cheered the last word, but Lucy didn't hear her. With eyes the size of pomegranates, she stared at her severed arm with undisguised horror. Black blood trickled from the end, staining the bright red carpet.

"Lucy! Are you ready?" Sophie called, her hands still covering her eyes. The ecstacy in her voice was impossible to miss.

"Uh..." Lucy knelt down and gingerly took the arm with her good hand, wincing at how warm it still was. Pathetically, she pressed it against her elbow. "N-not yet!" She shouted.

In that moment, the arm she was holding fell apart: the hand came off altogether.

Tears of fear streamed down Lucy's face, "Not yet!"

Her shout echoed through the Pole, unheard by anyone.

_"I'm not ready yet!"_


	40. Chapter 39: Pain

**Sorry it took so long. AND I'm sorry it's so short. This was all I had time for. Homework, aren't thou a bitch!  
**

* * *

Chapter 39: Pain  


"Yes, _yes_!" Jack didn't bother concealing his excitement as the lights on the globe began to blaze with life once again. A day had passed since Sophie and her friends had helped turn Night Mares into Dream Horses, and the improvements had been sky-high. So far, at least twenty percent of the lights that had died out had come back.

He cackled in triumph and jumped in the air like a bird. Molly, North, and Tooth watched with amusement as the whooping sprite did back-flips and cartwheels in mid-air. When he finally calmed down and lowered himself, Molly spoke, "Look, I'm excited too, but maybe you should control yourself a little better. Pitch is still out there."  
"So?"  
"And he's probably seeing the same thing we're seeing right now." Molly replied like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"So?"

"My God, it's like talking to a chimp." Molly pinched the bridge of her nose. Ignoring the icy (ha!) glare Jack sent her way, she resumed talking, "_So_, he's probably gonna do everything he can to stop our counterattack. We gotta stay on our toes."

Jack's jaw dropped. "Girl, will you lighten up? Even if Pitch _does_ attack, we got _thousands_ of more believers than him! We'll ground him to a powder."

"Jack," North piped up, "Molly eez right. Pitch could very vell attack." However, his words were left unheard. The two teenagers were glaring at each other.

Molly looked at Jack like he'd just said something outrageous. "Lighten up? Jack, the minute we let our guard down, he's gonna attack. Don't you understand how sneaky this guy is?"

"Of course I do!" Jack snapped, "I'm the one who faced him before, Molly, not you!"

"Jack!" Tooth snapped, "Enough!"

"You must not have done a very good job, then!" Molly retorted. "Otherwise, he wouldn't be back!"

"Molly!" North began, his eyes wide with shock. Even Tooth gasped and flew around anxiously.

Jack looked at Molly like she'd just stabbed him in the gut. Would it kill her to just be _happy_ once in a while? Just because she had visions didn't mean she had to ruin everything all the time. Why did she have to make him see black where there was once white?

"You know what?" He held his hands up, "As far as I'm concerned, this battle's as good as won. I'm gonna kick back with Lucy, and nothing you say's gonna change that. So go find somebody else's day to ruin."

Tooth's eyes widened, "Jack, that might not be a very good ide-"

But the winter spirit was alreading exiting the room.

North sighed in exasperation, "Jack, come on!"

Molly gaped at Jack's retreating back. He might as well have slapped her full in the face; the experience wouldn't have been any less shocking or hurtful. Molly knew she sounded like a worrywart, but she couldn't help it. What if everyone followed Jack's example and took this small victory for granted? Pitch wasn't by any means weak. He could very well attack and cause some serious damage.

She sighed and rubbed her hands over her face. North rubbed her back, "Vorry not, Molly. He did not mean eet. Being weeth Lucy vil cheer 'im up."

Tooth didn't reply. She just hid her hands behind her back, making sure that the black blood staining her palms would not be seen.

* * *

Jack was at Lucy's door in no time. He knocked twice before poking his head in, an expectant smile on his face. The girl was curled up on her bed, a miserable expression on her visage. Jack's grin vanished as his eyes trailed the thick bandages on her arms and hands. Had something happened?

He walked in tentatively. "Hey, Lu."

Lucy didn't answer. Jack failed to notice how red and puffy her eyes were. He also did not see the sticky needle and thread clutched in Lucy's wrapped hand. "Uh, I got good news. The plan's working. More kids are believing in us now." He continued, hoping this would be enough to make Lucy shake her worries off.  
No such luck. She muttered, "Great." Then, she curled up in an even tighter ball.

Jack's brow creased. He walked towards her bed and laid a hand on her knee, "Hey, are you okay?"

Lucy's eyes narrowed. "Do I _look_ okay?"

"Jeez." Jack pulled his hand away, "Who spat in your bean soup?"

Lucy sighed, "Look, I'm sorry. I just...need to be by myself right now."

Jack frowned stubbornly. "No."

Lucy glanced up, "Excuse me?"

"I said, no." Jack knelt down beside her bed. He pointed his staff at her, "You're my friend, Lucy, and I'm not leaving until you tell me what's wrong!"

"Oh, for _God's sake!_" Lucy shouted. Without thinking, she swatted Jack's staff out of her face with incredible strength, sending it flying across the the room. It slammed into a mirror, shattering it in a thousand pieces. Jack stepped out of the fragments' range as a surprised gasp escaped him. He stared at the mess in horror. Thousands of distorted reflections gaped back at him.

Lucy looked at the sea of shards with a mixture of shock and fear. Then, she looked at her hand reluctantly, like it was something she wished she didn't have.

She scowled and looked away, "It's not my fault! You made me do it."

In that moment, someone banged impatiently on the door. "Jack!" North bellowed, "Pitch!"

Jack froze. "What did he do?!"

"He at Burgess!" North shouted, "Not good sign! Come!"

Jack growled, "I'm coming!" He turned back to Lucy, his expression softening slightly, "Are you coming?"  
Lucy said nothing, still refusing to meet his gaze.

Jack stared at her for a moment, then took a deep breath and walked around the shards. He picked up his staff, "I'll go alone." Without looking for an answer, he left the room, closing the door behind him.

Lucy frowned sadly at the door, then sighed. "Jack..." She brought a hand to her temple as tears leaked from her eyes, "You have no idea...how much it hurts." She slowly untied the bandage on her wrist, grimacing at how sticky and bloody the final layer was. She'd have to thank Tooth for helping her when she had the chance.

Lucy's hand had been sewn back on her wrist, and the edges were still crusted with drying black blood.

Lucy examined her hand for a long moment before breaking down, covering her face with her hands.


	41. Chapter 40: Whacked Wicked

**Warning! Contains blood! One scene is inspired by 'Let Me In'.**

* * *

Chapter 40: Whacked Wicked  


Jack didn't need to ask what was happening in Burgess; he saw it the moment he and his comrades went through the portal. Ice gathered at the pit of his stomach.

The Bennett house was absolutely _overrun_ with Fearlings. They blended into the bricks, making the residence look like a giant black stain on the street. Jack stood there, paralyzed in shock, until a girl's high-pitched scream pierced the air.

He broke into a run, freezing the pavement in front of him.

"Jack!" North barked, "Vait! Ve do not know who's zere!"

But they did: Jamie and Sophie were there. And for them, Jack would've fought an army of Fearlings. He didn't care who he had to kill just so long as his friends made it out alive.

He broke the door down and almost gagged at what he saw. He clamped his hand over his mouth as his eyes threatened to pop out.

Mrs. Bennett, Sophie and Jamie's single mother was lying in an ocean of her own blood. The coppery smell of blood hung heavily in the air like humidity. Her glassy eyes looked sightlessly at the ceiling, and her mouth was open in a permenant scream.

Jack let out a scream of his own, one drenched in revulsion and terror at its purest. His hands flew in his hair as frightened tears filled his eyes. Even though he was seeing it, he simply couldn't believe it. He so desperately wanted to believe that he was hallucinating, or that this was a Night Mare tricking him. But deep in his heart, he knew that this was all horribly, painfully real.

"Just breaks your heart, doesn't it?" A voice that sounded nor male or female broke the silence.

Jack spun around, clutching his staff in a white-knuckled hold. He gritted his teeth, looking for the speaker.

The person stepped out of the shadows, and Jack felt his blood begin to boil. It was a figure clad in black, with a torn cape and serpent's skull concealing his/her identity. The winter sprite recognized the person in a heartbeat: the Sweet Serpent, Pitch's newest Fearling. And doubtlessly the most dangerous.  
Jack realized with a wave of nausea that the Sweet Serpent was literally _dripping_ with blood, and the crimson liquid was sprayed on his/her face.

The person was grinning at him from ear to ear, and Jack had the uncanny feeling that he'd seen that smile before.

The person licked at some blood near his/her lips, making Jack shudder. "She was a bug buzzing around my face." The Sweet Serpent stated in a very matter-of-fact voice, "That's why I had to swat her down." Its grin widened, "Like a **_gnat_**."

Jack roared and zapped the Fearling. It smirked and disappeared in the shadows; the sheet of white ice coated the wall with a hiss.

Jack cursed and scanned the room for his enemy, holding his staff like a spear, "Where are my friends, you creep?!"

"Oh, don't worry about them." The Sweet Serpent purred, "My friend is playing with them."

As if on cue, Sophie's shriek echoed from the backyard.

Jack's pupils shrunk. He raced out of the living room, but something coiled around his legs. He collapsed on the floor with a grunt, wincing at the impact. Shaking some white hair from his eyes, he looked down and bit back another scream. A snake, black as coal and hard as knife metal, hissed at him menacingly. Its topaz eyes glittered cruelly.  
Hovering over him, the Sweet Serpent smirked, "I don't remember giving you permission to leave." It knelt down so that they were looking into each other's eyes. Jack shivered at the glowing gold eyes so similar to Pitch's, only much more hateful. The Sweet Serpent smiled, though there was no emotion in it. "I still owe you some pain and misery."

"Why?!" Jack yelled in its face, "What the hell did I ever do to you?! I don't even know you!"

"Ah, but you do."

"What's **_that_** supposed to mean?"

"Let's just say your brain makes things convenient for you." The Sweet Serpent winked at him, "If you really want to know, here's a hint." It leaned forward, "I'm somebody that you used to kn-AAGH!" It suddenly screamed in pain as a gun was fired. Jack watched with wide eyes as the figure knelt over, clutching its arm. Instantly, the snake restraining Jack dissolved into obsidian sand, freeing him.

"Keep your eyes on me. Our conversation is the only one that should concern you."

Jack had never been so thrilled to hear that voice. He looked up and beamed at Molly, "Psycho!"

Molly gave him a small smile before jerking her head at the door, "Go save Jamie and Sophie. I'll handle it."

Jack cackled and jumped to his feet, "You got it!" Brushing off his sweatshirt, he leapt off to rescue his friends.

* * *

"No! No no no no! Let me go!" Sophie screamed bloody murder as the Fearling dragged her across the snow. The Fearling, to her horror, was a dark version of Jack; he was identical to the winter spirit in nearly every way, only instead of white hair, his hair was black as tar. Instead of Jack's kind blue eyes, this Fearling had eyes the color of liquid gold.

"Jack, please! Let me go!" Sophie wailed.

The Fearling snarled and tightened his hold on her ankle. The child cried in pain. "I told you." He growled, "My name's not 'Jack'. I'm Black Ice." He smirked, "The dark part of Jack. Now, he lifted her off the ground as easily as one might pick up a teacup, "In you go."

Before the child could protest, she was tossed in the coldest water she could ever dream of. She sunk to the very bottom of the pool, her lungs on fire. Black Ice watched with undisguised amusement as the child broke the surface with heavy gasps. The boy grinned and held his hand out. A black shard of ice appeared on his pale palm. Black Ice grabbed Sophie by the hair and pulled her to the edge of the pool.  
"We're gonna do a little contest, okay? The people in this house are away, so it's just us. Now, here's what I want you to do. I want you to hold your breath for..." He paused, thinking for a moment, "Four minutes. If you can do it, I'll just give you a little nick on your face." His face hardened, "But if you can't, I'm gonna stab your eyes out."  
Sophie was so terrified she could barely get the words out. "Buh-buh-but th-that's i-i-impossible."

Black Ice smiled coldly, "That's your problem. Let's see if someone comes to save you."  
With that, he pushed the little girl's head under the water and held it there. The Fearling sat there, waiting the seconds away.

He watched the bubbles rise to the surface, then sighed. Master had given him life for one purpose only: so he could lure the Princess here. What if she didn't show? Nobody else could save this kid; even from this distance, he could hear the guardians fighting his comrades.

Black Ice shrugged. What was he worrying about? Master was right about nearly everything, and he'd said that the Princess loved this brat and her brother. She wouldn't let harm befall either of them. Once she showed up, it would up to Sweet Serpent to bring the Princess home.

As if on cue, Black Ice heard snow crunching like crackers under boot soles. He turned around and smirked, "Well, the guest of honor has arrived."

The figure pulled out a knife.

* * *

Sophie's eyes bulged as she struggled to hold her breath. Air was swelling her throat and her lungs felt ready to explode. Just when she was wondering if this was going to be her fate - to drown just like Jack did - she heard Black Ice say something.

Then, a high-pitched shriek of rage, muffled by the water.

_C-c-c-c-r-r-rack!_

Black blood curled into the water as something was tossed into the pool. Sophie screamed, bubbles escaping her mouth. It was Black Ice's head, still smiling like the Cheshire Cat. Then, the hand holding her head underwater twitched before going slack. It let go of her hair and sank to the depths, severed at the elbow. As more blood filled the pool, Sophie kicked her legs upward.

She spluttered and gasped, her golden hair plastered in her face. She crawled to the edge of the pool and rested her cheek on the concrete, her small chest heaving. As her breath began to even out, the child felt a pair of strong hands pluck her out of the pool.

"Are you okay?"

Sophie looked up through the curtain of wet hair. Lucy was crouched before her, concern written all over her heart-shaped face. Her hair, face, and clothes were soaked in black blood, but in that moment, Sophie couldn't care less. Lucy was here! She'd saved her, and right now, that was the only thing that mattered to her.

Sophie beamed at her brother's old friend. After a moment's hesitation, it was returned. Then, Lucy gathered the dripping child in her arms, holding her close. Sophie hugged her back, trying to ignore the twitching, headless body of Black Ice next to them. Once it stopped moving, the body turned to Nightmare Sand.

"Sheila!"

Both girls whirled around to see Bunnymund hopping at full speed. Sophie's entire face lit up. She jumped out of Lucy's embrace and held her arms out, "Bunny!"

"Aw, ankle-biter!" Bunny scooped Sophie up and held her tight, relief washing over him like an ocean wave. He stroked her wet hair, "Thank Manny yer safe."

"Manny didn't save me!" Sophie pulled away with a pout. She pointed to Lucy, "Lucy did!"

Lucy gave a half-hearted smile. Bunny took one look at her blood-soaked clothes and almost went as white as Jack. "Crickey! Lu, what happened?"

Lucy shrugged, trying not to make a mountain out of a molehill, "A Fearling tried to drown Sophie in this pool. It's a good thing the residents aren't home. So I took care of it."

Bunny didn't say anything. Once again, that god-awful memory fogged his mind.

_Nightmare Sand, blood, and concrete came crashing down._

_Smoke climbed higher and higher into the night sky as the noise died down.  
_

_A girl stood amongst the destruction, holding a boy's head by the hair._

_Her right eye was bleeding, and she was looking right at **him.**_

_Then, she smiled._

_"**Kssh**."_

Without thinking, he pushed Sophie behind him, shielding her from Lucy. The teenage girl frowned but said nothing.

"Uh..." Bunny's brilliant green eyes darted from the bloody pool to the trees - anywhere but her. "I'll let 'em know yer here."

With that, he propped Sophie on his shoulders and scurried off.

Lucy watched him go, then at the mess she made. She looked down at her bloody hands, still holding the knife she'd stolen from North's kitchen...she griped and tossed it as far away from her as she could. It rolled across the snow, leaving a trail of black.

"How did it feel, to kill?"

Lucy gasped and spun around, "Who's there?!"

Cold chuckling filled the winter air. "Well, now I'm hurt. You don't recognize me?"

From the trees, a person stepped out. Its serpent skull mask kept its identity a secret, but for some reason, Lucy felt like she knew who was hiding under there.

The Sweet Serpent grinned, "**_Kssh_**."

Lucy froze. Nobody made that noise but her. What the hell was going on here?!

"Don't bother denying it. I could feel your pulse pick up when the knife dug in." The Sweet Serpent walked towards the girl, "You enjoyed killing him, didn't you? It was a thrill."

Lucy growled and jumped to her feet, "Stay away from me!"

The Sweet Serpent chuckled, "I figured you'd say something like that. Nobody ever likes the truth." Behind the mask, its eyes twinkled. It bowed respectfully. "I'll see you soon, Nightmare Princess."

Then, it disappeared in the shadows, leaving Lucy confused, scared, and cold.

"Lucy!" Two male voices cried at once. Lucy turned around to see Jamie and Jack running towards her. Jamie had a black eye and a split lip, but other than that he looked alright. Tears filled the girl's eyes, "JB!"  
The two friends embraced tightly, almost afraid to let go. "Sophie told me what you did." He whispered, "Thank you."  
Lucy sniffed and wiped her eyes as they pulled away. "No need to thank me. Sophie's like a sister to me."  
Jamie smiled warmly and nodded, stepping aside.

Lucy hugged Jack next, catching him by surprise. The winter sprite gasped, his eyes widening. The black blood on her clothes was staining his, but that wasn't what paralyzed him. It was her essence: her genuine concern for him made him soften, just like when Jamie had hugged him for the first time eight years ago. But this still felt...different. In a good way.

Jack smiled softly and returned her hug, rubbing her back, "I'm glad you're safe."

"Ditto."

Lucy pulled away, locking eyes with the guardian of fun. Neither of them noticed how close their faces were - close enough that their noses were touching. They just stared at each other, debating whether to pull away or lean in...

"There they are!"

"Oh, Lord!"

"Jamie! Lucy! Are you o-kay?!"

The teens pulled away, both their faces red, as their friends swarmed around them. After assurances that they were alright, the three teens walked with the guardians back towards the sleigh, where Sandman was distracting Sophie with gold pictures.

From between the trees, the Sweet Serpent watched gleefully. It'd been too easy to get her counterpart out. She'd even managed to plant a seed of doubt in Lucy! Success! Now, all they needed was a way to get Lucy back to the Realm.

The Sweet Serpent smiled, "**_Kssh_**."

Oh, this was going to be _fun_.


	42. Chapter 41: Turning Point

**Ok, so first off, sorry if you guys don't like LucyxJack. It was only meant to be FRIENDSHIP, y'know? But if it'll help, I'll tone it down a bit, but I won't eliminate it because it's necessary to the story later on. Also in this chapter you will learn why Lucy's body was rotting and needed to be sewn back together.  
**

**PS: I really want more details in reviews, so please give me more details about what you liked instead of simply writing 'awesome'. I work really hard on these chapters and I'd appreciate more specifics.**

**PPS: In addition to this fanfiction, I will be writing a 'what if' fic that includes Jack's younger sister. Is her name Pippa? I believe it is, but I want your opinion. Depending on how many people write 'yes' or 'no', I will either name Jack's sister 'Pippa' or give her another name. So please share your thoughts when you review.**

* * *

Chapter 41: Turning Point  


Much to everyone's relief, Bunnymund was healing quite nicely. His legs, which had once been as tangled as jungle vines, were snapped back into shape and well on the road to recovery. Underneath his fur his skin had taken on a healthier shade, and his arm was in a cast.

The best part, in Jack's opinion, was the Pooka's lack of tiredness. As Jack took over taking care of the disabled guardian, he had to tell Bunny everything about the current situation. Bunny's alertness helped Jack consider details he hadn't thought of, and it simply felt nice to talk to each other again. It made things seem a little bit more normal.

"So, how you holding up?" Jack inquired as he checked Bunny's heart rate monitor, "Ya miss hopping around with your fellow kangaroos?"

Bunny scowled, "I ain't a bleedin' kangaroo, mate. I'm a bunny."

"Still in denial, I see." Jack smirked as he placed a tray loaded with food on Bunny's lap, "Now, eat up or I'll spoonfeed you."

Bunny smirked, "You can try."

Jack shuddered, "No, thanks." Bunny's smirk stayed planted on his face as he started gnawing on some carrots. For a few moments, neither of the guardians spoke. Then, Jack chuckled hollowly and shook his head, "Pitch just doesn't know when to give up, does he?"

Bunny sighed, "The dingbat's stubborn, that's for sure. He went out with the Dark Ages, but he sure picked a fight. He didn't stop 'til he was half-dead."

"Great." Jack rubbed his temples, "I just don't get it. We've left him alone. Why is he attacking us all of a sudden?"

"Molly said he wants the girl ya found." Bunny interjected, his voice trembling at the mention of Lucy. "Maybe she's the key."

Jack shook his head again, "Maybe. But why does he want her?"

Bunny didn't answer for a few minutes. Finally, he replied in a thoughtful voice, "Well, from what I'm gettin', she's the first to really **_believe_** in him for a long time. I reckon Pitch just wants ta hold onto her."

Jack remembered the Realm and shuddered. He couldn't think of a worst place to be trapped in - or a worst warden.

Bunny examined the sprite's expression for a long moment. He played with his porridge as he said, "So, uh...you and the sheila seem to be gettin' along well. I heard ya playin' in the snow the otha' day."

Jack smiled fondly at the memory. "Yeah. Apparently, we were friends before. I just wish I could remember more about it."

Bunny inhaled shakily. Once again, he found himself recalling that dreadful night several years ago, when the balance had been upset. He could still hear the shattering glass; he could still see the girl standing amongst the debris, holding some poor man's head. His paws trembled at the recollection.

"Jack..." He tried not to sound too frightened, "Have you any idea...what that _thing_ is?"

Jack arched a dark brow, "She's not a _thing_. She's a person." He smiled at himself, "A really nice person. I can remember things...bits and pieces...we were really close back then."

"Jack..."

"I don't wanna forget her." Jack said with unshaking determination. "Not again."

Bunny opened his mouth, then closed it. Jack looked so..._happy_ about this girl. How could he tell him? How could he describe the horror he'd experienced that night? How could he even begin to talk about the spectacle of violence and gore he'd had a front row seat to?

How could he tell him what he'd seen Lucy do?

* * *

It took three cups of eggnog and four and a half plates of biscuits to calm Sophie down. Considering the child had been kidnapped and almost drowned, though, Lucy thought that it was a miracle she hadn't snapped.

Eventually, Sophie cried herself to sleep. She curled up on Lucy's lap and sucked on her thumb, still looking troubled in her thoughts. As Lucy stroked the kid's hair, she turned to Molly and Jamie, "We're in a jam here, guys. Your mother's been murdered and you disappeared. Sooner or later, the police is going to get involved. You have to go home."

"Not on my watch." Jamie answered firmly, "You said it yourself: nobody associated with Nightmare Sand can get in here, right?"

"Right." Molly and Lucy replied at the same time. Molly added, "I cast the spell myself. Nobody who's used or is using Nightmare Sand can come in without permission."

Lucy arched a brow, "Permission?"

"Yeah." Molly nodded, "That was as strong as it could get. If someone who's used that stuff wants to come in, somebody who lives here - me, North, or even Jack - has to explicitly say, 'You can come in'. Otherwise..." She snapped her fingers, "For them, it'd be like covering themselves in kerosene and lighting a match."  
Without thinking, Lucy's hand trailed to her arm, which had been sewn back on by Tooth.  
"Ouch." Jamie winced, "In other words, Sophie's safe in here."

"Absolutely." Molly nodded.

"Where're you going with this, JB?" Lucy asked a little warily.

Jamie exploded, "For God's sake, my sister almost _drowned_ today!"

"I know." Lucy replied calmly, "I'm the reason she didn't."

"Thanks for that." Jamie said a bit more calmly, "But I don't wanna run that risk again. Next time, she might not be so lucky. No," He shook his head, "We're not leaving the Pole until this matter's over."

Molly sighed, "It's not that simple, Jamie. The police will get involved. What're you gonna say once the matter's over? 'Sorry officer, I was in the North Pole to protect my sister from the forces of darkness'? You'll be sent to the looney bin before you can count to three."

Lucy smirked, "**_Kssh._** Glad to see you're breaking it to him so gently."

Molly glowered at her, "Why don't you stay out of things you don't belong?"

That wiped the smile right off of Lucy's face.

"Hey, guys!" Jack swooped in, layering the mosaic floor in frost as he landed. Once he saw the girls, his smile wavered. "What's going on?" He asked.

His question was left unheard. Lucy whispered, "What did you just say?"

"You heard me." Molly answered. She was on a roll now. "Ever since you showed up, everything's been going downhill. Bunny's in the infirmary, the Warren's in ruins, the kids constantly stop believing, Mrs. Bennett is dead, and Jamie and Sophie have to stay here to avoid getting killed!"

"Hey, the kangaroo's getting better." Jack interrupted, trying to calm Molly down. The girl ignored him entirely. "Why the hell does Pitch want YOU?! What's so damn special about you?"

"How should I know?!" Lucy snapped, "You're the psychic here! Why don't _you_ tell _me?_"

"My visions don't work like that!"

"Then they're useless!"

Molly looked like she'd just been slapped in the face. Jack couldn't help feeling a bit sorry for her, even if she'd just engaged in a verbal war with Lucy. Molly was very proud of her visions. Many a time she'd helped a child avoid a misfortune like getting hit by a car or being humiliated in school. Sure, she didn't have impressive combative powers like the others, but she was still proud of the ability she _did_ have.

Molly finally came up with the perfect comeback. "At least I actually **_have_** a power." She retorted, "You're just a puny mortal. In a hundred years I'll look exactly the way I do today and you'll be dead and buried!"

Lucy's visible eye widened until it was the size of an Oreo. Then, it narrowed to a chestnut slit. For a second the boys thought she would slap Molly. Then, she took several steps back. Rubbing her arms, she spun on her heel and ran out of the room. Molly blinked; she hadn't expected her words to have such a powerful effect. She felt like she'd just..._wounded_ Lucy in an area that would never fully heal.

"How could you talk to her like that?" Jamie asked, "She's been a help. If it weren't for her, Sophie would've drowned. And she saved me from burning to death."

"That doesn't change the facts." Molly answered in a hollow voice. "Ever since Jack picked her up, everything's been unraveling."

"That's Pitch's fault." Jack growled in an uncharacteristically angry voice. "Not hers."

Molly sighed, and her shoulders slumped. "You're right. I might've come on a little too strong. It's just..." She rubbed her forehead, "There are so many things we don't know about her. I even asked Tooth to find Lucy's teeth; they weren't there."

"What?" Jamie's eyebrows leaped upwards, "You're serious? Why not?"

Molly shook her head, defeated. "I don't know. I tried seeing who took 'em. All I could see was a shadow."

"Pitch." Jack snarled, "He probably stole them so we couldn't see the truth."

Molly's eyes slowly widened. "Maybe...there's another way." She turned to Jamie, then Jack. "All I know for sure is that I'm from Burgess. I've never bothered to look at my teeth before, remember?"

"Yeah." Jack nodded, wondering where she was going with this.

"Lucy's from Burgess, too. Maybe, if I look into my teeth, I could catch glimpses of her. Clues. Maybe those can help us understand."

Jamie's face broke into a smile. He lightly smacked Molly's back, "Great idea!" Molly nodded, enthusiasm clouding her eyes.

Jack was unwavered. "But I still want you to apologize to Lucy."

Molly's excited grin disappeared. "I will. I'll give her some time to calm down first."

Jack sighed, "I'll go see how she's doing." With that, he levitated off the ground and flew after the girl.

Molly watched him leave. How could he be so attached to a girl he barely knew?

"Don't worry." Jamie spoke gently, "It's probably just instinct. Back when we were kids, Jack was always worrying about Lucy. He always told her that she read too much, that she should loosen up and enjoy life a little more."

Molly scratched her head, not replying. She vaguely remembered him whispering the word 'Lucy' several years back, when she'd first awoken as an immortal. She'd asked him about it many times, but he'd always said that he didn't know who that was. Now, Molly was convinced that this Lucy was the one Jack had been talking about.

Either way, she needed to see those teeth. Maybe, just maybe, they held the answers the group desperately needed.

* * *

Lucy's pants filled the guest room. Her trembling hands could hardly get the magic thread through the needle. Once she did, she began sewing her leg back together. She'd barely managed to reach her room; the minute she'd closed the door, her entire leg had come off.

As she shoved the needle in and out of her thigh, Lucy thanked whatever diety was out there that she didn't feel anything. But more than anything, she kept thinking over what Molly had said.

First, about the whole 'permission' thing. If a person assosiated with black sand didn't have consent to enter, their body fell apart like a corpse's. That was precisely what was happening to her. Now, Lucy was positive that the only reason she hadn't died was because she was still a human; that alone protected her from the strong effects of the spell. But why? She'd never seen, much less used, black sand in her life! At least, not that she could remember.

She stopped sewing for a moment. A horrible thought dawned to her.

What if...she _had_ used it? If that was the case, everything made much more sense. It explained why Pitch wanted her, and it explained why her body had to be sewn back together.

Oh, God. What would the guardians do if they found out? No, there was no question about it: they would throw her out the second they knew. They might even hunt her down to get things back to normal.

What would Jack think if he knew?

Knock, knock, knock!

"Lu?"

A layer of ice coated Lucy's stomach. "J-just a second!" She shouted, quickly finishing her sewing. The second her thigh was attached to her body again, she snapped the thread with her teeth and shoved her trouser leg back down. She scrambled on the bed and grabbed a book, opening it to a random page. "Come in!" She shouted.

Jack poked his head in, his icy-blue eyes soft with sympathy. "You okay?" He asked.

Lucy remembered the rest of Molly's speech and shrugged. "Sure, for a puny human."

Jack sighed and entered the room, closing the door behind him. "Look, don't let her get under your skin. She has a lot on her mind; she didn't really mean it."

"Maybe," Lucy answered sullenly, "But she's right. If it weren't for me, everything would be normal."

In a heartbeat, Jack was standing at the foot of her bed. She nearly jumped, but she managed to maintain her posture. Jack's eyes bore into hers, "Don't say that. Pitch is the one screwing everything up, not you." He sat down next to her, "He's...a monster. You can't expect him to leave things alone."  
Lucy frowned thoughtfully. "I don't think he's a monster, per say."

"He is." Jack answered firmly, "Believe me, he'll do anything to get what he wants. Even kill others."

Lucy shivered, remembering how the Fearling had kept Sophie's head under the icy surface. If a Fearling could do such an awful thing, she didn't have a hard time believing its master could as well.

She nodded slowly. After a second's pause, she said, "But I still don't want to be a burden. If there's anything I can do - anything at all - please let me know."

Jack cracked a smile. "Well..."

* * *

Lucy whimpered and tightened her hold on Jack's waist, her eyes bulging. She kept staring at the ground, which was a few thousand feet below. Jack snickered but still patted her hands, "Don't worry, Lu. I won't let you fall."

Lucy blushed lightly, "O-okay."

Sandman smiled knowingly at the two before gesturing with his hands. He pointed first at the rivers of glowing gold sand, then at the two of them.

Jack nodded like he understood every word, while Lucy just looked befuddled. She looked at her friend, "What's he saying?"

"We gotta help spread the sand around Burgess." The winter sprite explained, "And make sure no Night Mares go after Sandy. If we make sure that all the kids are having good dreams, then they won't stop believing in us. And we gotta make sure nothing attacks Sandy."

Sandy nodded in confirmation.

Lucy nodded slowly. "Okay."

For the rest of the night, the two teens acted as bodyguards. Every couple of hours they traded places: they either followed the rivers of sand and made sure they touched every child's dream, or flew alongside the Sandman to assure no harm would befall him. Lucy, of course, couldn't fly; but the moment she touched the Dream Sand, it morphed into a flying skateboard. The girl felt a tug of familiarity, but she shrugged it off.

The night progressed without many problems. Every now and then a Night Mare appeared, but Jack and Lucy put them down like rabid dogs. For some reason, Lucy felt guilty about killing the nightly beasts. They came to her like tame pets when they saw her, and their glowing amber eyes held unmasked hurt as she stabbed them.

Who had she been before Jack had found her in the burning house? _Really?_

Finally, they made it to daybreak. Jack, who'd been up all day and all night, was practically falling asleep in the air. Lucy laughed as she pulled him down on Sandy's cloud. Sandy beamed as he provided Lucy with a gold blanket of the softest quality, which she wrapped around the winter spirit. She yawned, but smiled at the chubby little man. "Will this..." She stifled a second yawn, "...really help our cause?"

Sandy nodded. Content with this, Lucy lay her head down to rest her eyes...and ended up falling asleep as well.

As the trio began their trip back to the Pole, they didn't realize they were being followed.

* * *

Sandy and Lucy dragged Jack into another guest room, which was specially reserved for him. It looked more like the inside of an igloo than an actual bedroom: the walls and floor were incased in solid white ice, and the bed was made of snow. Lucy sniggered as she pulled Jack onto his bed and pulled the snowy blanket over him. He curled up in a ball, looking as peaceful as an infant.

Lucy smiled softly at him before pushing some of his silvery hair out of his face.

"Hey."

Lucy gasped and whirled around...to see Molly. Lucy immediately felt herself steel up. "What do you want?" She asked coldly, "You wanna know what I want engraved on my tombstone?"

Molly sighed. "Look, I'm sorry. I didn't mean the things I said."

"Really?" Lucy pulled the curtains down, "You sounded pretty convinced to me."

Molly massaged her temples, "I was a bitch, okay? But I've thought it over...and I was wrong. You really _are_ helping out. Hell, I just saw the globe; more than 40% of the lights are coming back. Pitch should practically be in his deathbed by now. If we attack soon, he'll be finished."

Lucy said nothing.

"And...I really _am_ sorry for what I said. I know you wanna help out. So..." She held her hand out, "Comrades?"

Lucy stared at Molly's hand enviously. It was flawless, with no scars. Unlike hers. Biting down her jealousy, she smiled weakly and shook Molly's hand, "Comrades."

A loud scratching noise made both girls gripe and cover their ears. It was a horrible high-pitched squealing sound, like nails on a chalkboard.

"What the hell is that?" Lucy hissed, leaning closer to be heard.

"I don't know!" Molly replied, "It's awfully close, though..." Her eyes widened as she looked at the window.

She dropped her hands and shoved the curtains aside.

Outside, staring at them through the scratched glass, was the Sweet Serpent.

"W..." Lucy could hardly say it, "We're on the fifth floor!"

Indeed, the Sweet Serpent was floating in the air. Now that it was up close, Lucy could see how grim the person really looked: the black cloak was torn, the gloves had claws at the ends, and the bodysuit looked like real snake skin. But the creepiest thing, at least to Lucy, was the eyes staring at them through the snake skull sockets: they were glinting like gold, but there was no life to them. It was like looking at cold stones rather than eyes.

The Sweet Serpent looked straight at her and grinned. She could hear its voice in her mind.

**_'Mistress.'_** It whispered, **_'Sister.'_**

Its eyes narrowed. **_'Self.'_**

"No." Lucy breathed hoarsely. Molly growled and opened the window. The Sweet Serpent lowered itself to the ground, leaving no footprints. In the early morning mist, its golden eyes glowed like stars.

"This is my home!" Molly roared, "I'll never give you permission to enter! Never!"

The Sweet Serpent kept staring at her, grinning the whole time.

"You'll never get in here! So beat it already!" Molly yelled before slamming the window shut.

Lucy watched her ally leave, then looked back at the Sweet Serpent. It met her eyes, never blinking or looking away.


	43. Chapter 42: Invitation

**Another scene is inspired by 'Let Me In'. Hope you like it and sorry I haven't updated! I've had homework.**

Chapter 42: Invitation  


Lucy griped, then rolled over on her bed. Her stitched hands were pressed firmly over her ears, but it didn't come _close_ to snuffing out the demonic voice: she was hearing it in her head.

* * *

_The girl bolted down the halls, confusion coursing through her brain. She was in some kind of cave, with inky rocks towering above her. The entire place reeked like it hadn't been aired in ages, but at the same time, Lucy found it to be famili__ar._

**_"Ah, how kind of you to pay us a visit."_**

_Lucy screamed, in spite of herself. It was like this voice - neither male nor female, neither deep or high - had forced it out. Her legs acted on their own accord, bringing her to a gigantic room filled with iron cages._

_She looked around, trying desperately to comprehend her emotions. She felt...**happy** to be here. Why?!_

_A loud, cold hissing noise interrupted her thoughts. She spotted the source of the racket: it was an ebony, twelve-foot serpent. Lucy found the creature to be beautiful and terrifying: its head was almost as large as hers, and its scaly body was toned with powerful muscles. Its scales glittered in the poor lighting like black diamonds. Its glowing amber eyes locked with her chestnut one, and Lucy felt her heart pound against her ribs like a Conga drum._

_It flashed its pearly fangs at her before bowing its flat head. Then, it began to transform. Its body contorted and thickened, and it sprouted arms and legs. A long, torn black cloak appeared on its shoulders, and its head turned into a skull..._

_...with a human jaw and mouth under it._

_Lucy swallowed hard. "The Sweet Serpent."_

_The person grinned at her, "**Kssh**."_

_It stood up and brushed off its suit, "**You know, you really haven't been acting very nice**." It scolded her mockingly, "**You run away from home, and then, you go to live with the goddamn enemy**."_

_"Enemy?!" Lucy shouted. Just like that, her fear melted like butter on a stove. "The guardians aren't my enemies. You are."_

_The Sweet Serpent's simper widened. "**Oh, really?**" It asked innocently, "**I find that a little hard to believe, considering Jack Frost killed your parents.**"_

_"LIAR!" Lucy bellowed._

_The Sweet Serpent smirked, "**Kssh**." It grabbed her wrist with a death grip, "Lie? Me? Ha! Never! The truth is far too much fun."_

_It pulled her forward, and the shadows closed in on them..._

_...and brought them to the Burgess cemetary._

_Lucy growled and finally managed to free herself from the Sweet Serpent's hold. She was about to run when something caught her eye._

_'Rivera'._

_Lucy felt chunks of ice form at the pit of her stomach. 'Rivera'? That was her surname. How could...?_

_Oh, no._

_Lucy felt like the rug had been pulled out from under her feet. Stiff with dread, she turned to look at her family name._

_It was carved in a gravestone. Two gravestones, actually. They were placed next to each other, the way couple's gravemarkers usually were.  
_

_Lucy's entire body went numb as she read the names._

_Angelo Rivera  
August 12th, 1972-December 13th, 2004  
Loving son, brother, husband, and father_

_Louisa Rivera  
May 10th, 1979-December 13th, 2004  
Loving daughter, wife, and mother_

_"No..." Lucy breathed as her vision blurred, making those words disappear. _

_"Yes." The Sweet Serpent whispered from behind her, "He froze the roads while they were in the car. They skidded off the road and crashed into a swamp, right into a lake. If the fall didn't kill them, the water did."  
Lucy cringed and covered her ears with her hands. That only made the Sweet Serpent smile leaned forward so its cold breath curled around Lucy's ear. "**Imagine,**" It hissed, "**Because of the winter spirit you're making goo-goo eyes for...your parents drowned in a swamp.**" It shouted the last part, "**LIKE RATS!**"_

* * *

"STOP IT!" Lucy shouted, her voice bouncing off the red walls.

Thanfully, that god-awful voice stopped talking, but its words still echoed in the girl's mind. She lay there panting before sitting up, hugging her knees to her chest. She tried to hold herself together...then started to cry. She covered her face with her scarred hands as the tears poured forth. All she could do was think of Jack's smiling, pale face and how he'd been the one to do away with her parents.

_'But he couldn't have...done it on purpose, right?'_ She thought to herself, desperately trying to find a way to stop her chest from hurting. _'It was an accident...but...he made the mistake, but he walked away unscathed. My parents...'_

Lucy shook her head before she could finish the thought. Jack was her best friend. She couldn't hate him...but how could she not after discovering something like this?No. She didn't want to hate him. She had to...think of her parents before they died. Yes! That was the solution! Think back on the happy times, and her anger would fade.

Hopefully.

Clinging onto that feeble thread of hope, Lucy straightened her posture and closed her eyes. She kept trying to imagine her parents' face, but their visages were blurred. She tried harder and harder, making sweat form on her brow...with no results.

She couldn't even remember her own parents' face.

Her wails echoed through the Pole.

* * *

"Hmm...very interesting." Molly remarked later that morning. She was holding a government file with one hand, a mug of well-sweetened coffee with the other.

Jack barely looked up from the ice sculpture of himself he was making. "If it's another document on how female mantises eat their mates, I'll pass."

Molly glared at his back before pushing her spectacles up her nose. "Nooo." She held up the paper, "I dug up some info on Lucy."

Jack's raised arm froze. He blinked twice, then turned to his friend. His icy-blue eyes locked on her cloudy-gray ones.

"Seriously?" He asked.

"Yeah." Molly nodded, "And it's pretty normal...until she turned ten."

Now, Jack was listening. He left his half-finished sculpture and leaned against his staff. He made a 'go on' gesture with his hand. Molly took the hint and began summarizing what she read:

"From what it says here, Lucy's an Italian-American, hence the surname 'Rivera'. She and her parents spent most of Lucy's childhood in Wisconsin, but when Mr. Rivera was fired from his job, they moved to Burgess."

Jack shrugged. This seemed like a fairly ordinary childhood. Not too much drama.

"Then, right after Lucy turned ten, her parents were killed in a car accident."

Okay, that was dramatic.

"It's not specified how they were killed." Molly continued, "The road was frozen, so they slid off the road and crashed into a swamp. The car was found in the water, so if the fall didn't kill them, the water did."

Jack felt a cold, bony hand clutch his heart and give it a squeeze. He could hardly say it.

"Did..." He swallowed, "Did _I_ do that?"

Molly sighed, then ran a hand through her honey-blonde hair. "Depends. Were you in Burgess that year?"

Jack didn't want to answer, but he did anyway. "Yeah. I'm always in Burgess during the winter."

Molly sighed again, "Then I don't know what to say."

"I..." Jack couldn't say it, but horror sizzled in his system.

He'd murdered someone.

Molly continued, not letting Jack ponder over his sin for much longer. "Anyway, since Mr. Rivera had a sister, Lucy went to live with her and her family. A few months later, she just..." She air-quoted the last word, "'disappeared'."

Jack's knobby knees were trembling, so he sat down on the mosaic floor.

Molly stared at him for a long moment, "Have you ever considered that maybe, just maybe, Pitch took her away? It would explain why he wants her back now, and where she's been all this time."

Anger formed in Jack's chest like a roaring dragon. He clenched his teeth and stood up. "How can you even say that?" He asked, "Pitch is a fucking _monster_. Lucy would never be with him, even for a second."

"Then why did he tell her to 'come home'?" Molly asked skeptically.

"Just fuck off!" Jack snapped, "You just want her gone, admit it."

"What?!" Molly asked in exasperation.

"Yeah!" Jack yelled, "You've been against her since Day One! You're just jealous, admit it!"

"Jealous of what?" Molly retorted, sarcasm dripping from her voice. "That in a hundred, no _thousand_ years, I'll stay young while she'll be a pile of dust? That everyone but you and the kids finds her creepy? That she's half-blind? Oh, yeah! I'm green with envy!"

Jack scoffed and stormed out of the room, freezing the entire floor on his way out.

Molly sighed and rubbed her forehead. What was she going to do? Sure, now she knew about that mysterious girl, but what good was this information? She didn't have any proof that this Lucy girl had been in kahoots with the Nightmare King. She needed concrete evidence.  
Maybe...

Molly froze, then looked in the direction of her room.

Her teeth.

She broke into a run.

* * *

_Back in the Realm..._

The only sound audible was Pitch's wheelchair. It squeaked as he waved his hand, making the image disappear. So, Molly had figured it out. All she needed was the teeth and she'd have all the proof she needed.

But maybe...

A slow smile appeared on the Boogeyman's face. He could use this to his advantage. He could use this girl to get Melinda back. If none of his Night Mares could get inside without disintegrating, then maybe they could lure Molly out.

Then, of course, the guardians would come rescue her. Lucy would come along, probably.

And once she met with the Sweet Serpent, her other half...

It was too perfect.

Once that happened, he and Melinda could continue spreading fear. He would waste no time in turning her into what he was, and she could spread more fear for him, making him stronger.

They would be a family forever.

With a flick of his wrist, the black sand shifted. It showed him his daughter, who was trying to stop herself from bleeding to death. Pitch felt his heart throb when he saw the state the poor girl was in. She was wearing a black, short-sleeved T-shirt and a knee-long skirt, but her exposed arms and legs were enough. Pitch counted twelve horizontal scars in total from where her limbs had fallen apart, and he found them very ugly. She looked like a rag doll.

Pitch's hands clenched into fists. He would make them pay.

"Black Ice!" He yelled. A torrent of obsidian sand surged forth. Seconds later, it had turned into a darker version of Jack Frost: the same lean build, blue hoodie, and deerskin trousers, but with black hair, gold eyes, and a smile that would make Hell freeze over. The boy had stitchings across his neck from when Lucy had decapitated him.

"Master," He said, "What can I do for you?"

"Go to the Pole." Pitch ordered, "And look for the teeth of Molly McFadden. Be sure to leave evidence that you were there."

Black Ice grinned. "Consider it done." He leaped and waved his staff. Ice as black as coal appeared, forming a skateboard under his bare, ashen feet. With his hands in his pockets, the Fearling zoomed out of the Realm.

Pitch smiled softly. He recalled years ago, back when Melinda had still been a child. She'd still been learning how to follow in her mentor's footsteps, but she'd been skill nonetheless. She'd created a skateboard for transportation rather than ride a Night Mare.

The Boogeyman found it amusing: while he'd cared for Melinda and loved her like his own (though he'd never actually said so), he'd never truly realized how precious she was to him...

Until now.

* * *

"Lucy?" Jack knocked on his friend's door again, "Lu, c'mon. You've been in there all day."

"Uh, I-I'm fine!" Lucy called back. Jack didn't buy it for a second. He stomped his foot, though it made him look more childish than threatening.

"I **_can_** knock the door down! Don't think I can't!" He warned.

In that moment, Tooth flew in. "What's going on here?" She asked, her violet eyes bright with curiousity.

"Lucy didn't come down for dinner, for breakfast, and I've knocked on her door five times now. Something's up." Jack explained.

Tooth paled, though Jack failed to notice. She knew what was wrong with Lucy; _she'd_ been the one to sew the girl's arms and legs back together.

"Uh, maybe you should just leave her alone." Tooth tried, "The more you push her, the less she'll be willing to come out."

Jack looked at her like she'd just claimed that candy rains from the sky. "I just want to check on her. Is that so ridiculous?"

Tooth opened her mouth to protest when Lucy suddenly whimpered from the other side of the door.

That was all the invitation Jack needed. He kicked the door open, making Lucy yelp. She quickly grabbed a blanket and threw it over herself.

"Lu?" Jack stepped inside, then immediately started coughing. The room smelled like rust, or cooper. It was a heavy odor, too. It smelled a lot like...

Blood.

Jack's voice hit an octave higher, "Lu, where are you?"

"I-I'm under here." Lucy managed to say from where she stood near the window. Tooth hovered over Jack's head, concern written all over her pretty face.

"What's with the ghost costume?" Jack asked, "And why do I smell blood?"

"Well..." Lucy drifted off, uncertainty clear in her voice. She swallowed with an audible click, "Remember...back when I was a kid, when you said we'd be best friends no matter what?"

Jack was confused for a split second. Then, he recalled what she was talking about. He nodded, not sure where this was headed. "Yeah, I remember."

"Um..." Lucy mumbled, not sure how to continue.

Jack spoke, "Lu, you're starting to scare me."

Lucy's heart dropped in her stomach. She whispered, "I...I need you to say something. That I can come in."

"What?" Jack frowned, "Why would you need me to say something like that?"

Lucy didn't answer for a moment. Then, with trembling hands, she pulled the blanket off.

Tooth slapped her hands over her lips. Jack just stood there, his eyes slowing widening.

Lucy's head was bowed, but she was trembling terribly. Wet patches appeared on her shirt, and spidery red lines appeared all over her exposed skin. Pieces of her scalp turned crimson, and blood highlighted her hair. The red lines deepened, showing bits of muscle and bone. Her right index finger fell off, then her left thumb. Her eye turned pink, and bloody tears trickled down her cheek-

"No, no, no! Stop!" Jack ran towards her and grabbed her shoulders, "You can come in! You're welcome in here! You can come in!"

Lucy stared into his eyes. Her own swam with relief, gratitude, and trust. Jack sighed and embraced her, being careful not to press too hard on the girl's injuries.

"What...was that? Molly's spell?" He asked.

Lucy shook her head sadly, "I think so. I don't really understand why. I just know this has been getting worse every day."

Jack frowned, "Why didn't you say something?"

Lucy was grateful that he couldn't see her face. She closed her eyes, and a clear tear, free of blood, streamed down her cheek. "I was afraid...you'd think I was evil. Like the Sweet Serpent."

Tooth released all the air from her lungs. "I wanted to say it, but it doesn't work that way. This isn't my home; it wouldn't have worked."

Jack tightened his hold on Lucy. Fear was etched in his voice, "What if I hadn't said anything? Would you've...died?"

Lucy smiled a little at her friend. "I knew you wouldn't let that happen to me."


	44. Chapter 43: Bleeding Smile

Chapter 43: Bleeding Smile  


Jack kicked his legs in the air from where he sat on Lucy's bed. He listened to the muffled sound of running water, hoping that everything would be all right.

Toothiana had left the room right after Jack had half-asked, half-ordered Lucy to take a shower. The fairy had muttered something about getting a first-aid kit, but when she failed to show up again, Jack's suspicions were confirmed: she wasn't coming back.

But why? Had the sight of blood intimidated her? No, that couldn't be possible; from what Tooth had confessed, she'd been the one to patch Lucy up. If she could handle sewing an arm or leg back together, she could handle a little blood.

Maybe she just went back in case someone came looking for her, Jack, or Lucy. The winter sprite was thankful for that. If Molly or North barged in now, it would be the end. The delicate balance that was keeping them all together would be shattered in a heartbeat.

Then...they were okay.

An idea suddenly seized Jack and refused to let go. As a smirk appeared on his ashen face, he slid off the bed, walked towards an dusty record player, and checked out the records available. Once he picked the one he liked, he pulled it out of its paper container, placed it on the player, and put the needle over it.

A second later, a song from 'The Rolling Stones' filled the air like a tantalizing smell. Feeling enforced by the music, Jack turned to the bathroom door and shoved his hands in his hoodie pockets, waiting for Lucy.

She came out a couple of minutes later. Her waist-long hair was dripping with water, but the blood had been washed off and she was wearing a plain, long-sleeved black skirt and black tights. Her face had been scrubbed clean, and right now, it contorted into a look of surprise.  
A delighted smile found its way on her face. "What's this?"

Jack shrugged, "Just my way of saying I'm sorry."

Lucy's smile widened. "There's nothing to apologize for."

_'Yeah, except for killing your parents.'_

_'Shut up!'_ Lucy thought back furiously.

"Hey, you okay?" Jack asked, his icy-blue eyes focused on her. Lucy hesitated before nodding and sitting on her bed. Jack could tell something was still up (who couldn't?), but he decided to go with the flow. He sat down next to her, but he could feel a veil separating them. Lucy rubbed her arms, and she kept her eyes to the floor.

"Do they still hurt?" Jack asked, gesturing to the girl's newly-sewn fingers.

Lucy gave him the ghost of a smile and shook her head. "No. Thanks to you."

Jack released the air from his lungs. "I still don't get why you didn't tell me."

"I told you why." Lucy muttered, "I was afraid you'd think I was...like Pitch."

"No." Jack said it so firmly the girl had to look up. He placed his hand on her shoulder and held her gaze. "Lucy, Pitch is a _demon_. You're nothing like him; you're kind, thoughtful, fun, and pretty." He gestured to her hands, "So you got a few scars. Who doesn't?"

Lucy was sure she'd turn on the waterworks, but she managed to keep it together. Jack didn't know how his words had warmed her. She hadn't expected him to say that he thought her evil, but she certainly hadn't anticipated something so...nice.  
Without warning, she wrapped her arms around him, burying her face in the crook of his neck. Jack froze, his eyes wide. It was his turn to be surprised.

"Thank you." She whispered.

Jack looked unsure for a moment; then, he relaxed and returned the embrace, relishing in Lucy's warmth.

Then, a scream ripped through the air.

* * *

Molly couldn't contain the shriek; it tore from her lips like a ghost. To some, it would've cause goose bumps to appear on their skin.

To Black Ice, it was equivalent to the sound of music. Even as he bled from every pore on his body, he grinned and put a hand on his heart. "Such a lovely sound, truly." He held up a gold container with Molly's picture on it. "It's too bad I have to go, or I would've made you scream a lot more."

Fear immediately dissolved into rage. Molly whipped out her handgun and aimed it at Black Ice's bloody face, "Give that back, or I'll-"

"What, shoot?" Black Ice cackled. The laughter ended in wheezing coughs, but he swallowed back the pain and spoke, "It'll take more than a few shitty bullets to get me outta the game." He rubbed his neck, right over the black stitches. "I was decapitated and I still came back. Know why?" He dropped his hand, "Everybody's got a dark side: Jack, you, even Lucy. And you can't just shoot 'em." He snickered, "Especially Lucy's."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Molly asked in a dangerously low voice.

Black Ice grinned, "Aww, the kitty's curious? Not to worry; you'll meet 'er."

His next move wasn't even to blink; it was to reach out and grab Molly's throat.

* * *

Jack, Lucy, and Jamie bolted down the corridors, weapons ready. Jamie was sporting a broom, Jack his staff, while Lucy had broken a bottle and taken the sharp end. They reached Molly's room and leaned against the wall, ready to jump in. Jack, looking paler than usual, peeked through the keyhole.

"Oh, where're the guardians when we need 'em?" Lucy whispered in exasperation.

Jamie chewed on his lip, "They're all doing their jobs and North had to go out. They can be everywhere."

Lucy opened her mouth when another scream sliced the air. Jack didn't dare wait; he opened the door open and held his staff out, "Freeze!"

"You first!" Black ice shot out at him like a herd of bats.

"JACK!" Lucy tackled the winter sprite, sending them both crashing on the carpeted floor. The ebony ice coated the pillar behind them, and all Jack could think was: _'That could've been me.'_

Jamie looked in the room and felt his blood turn gelid. Black Ice, the same Fearling that had almost drowned his sister, was holding a sputtering Molly by the throat three feet off the ground. The handgun lay crushed at his feet.

The boy's yellow eyes bore into Jamie's chocolate-brown ones, and Black Ice smiled. It held no mirth or human emotion; it was a little better than bared teeth, and with that face bleeding black blood, it was the most terrifying thing Jamie had ever seen.

"Wow," Black Ice purred, "The gang's all here."

"Are you okay?" Lucy asked, tucking some hair out of her face. Jack realized the position they were in (her sprawled on top of him) and turned scarlet. "U-uh, yeah."  
"Alright." Completely oblivious, Lucy jumped to her feet and helped Jack up.

"Why're you helping him, Princess?" Black Ice asked, sounding genuinely curious. "He's the reason your parents are dead."

"SHUT UP!" Lucy snapped, her voice cracking. Jack blanched, "I-I didn't mean-"

Lucy screamed and lunged for Black Ice, the shattered bottle raised. Black Ice sniggered and avoided her swipes with no effort. Jack aimed his staff, but he didn't shoot; he didn't want to accidentally shoot Molly or Lucy. Lucy, whose visible eye was filling with tears, growled and tried to stab him, "LET MOLLY GO!"

Black Ice shrugged, like he had nothing better to do. "Fine by me. It was starting to hurt anyway." He glanced at Lucy's arms, like he knew what the long sleeves were hiding. "How'd you handle it for days?"

Jamie looked at Lucy. "What?"

Jack yelled as an army of ice shards flew at Black Ice. The Fearling giggled and waved his hand; the shards broke before they could touch him.

Jack's eyes were the size of tennis balls. 'How could that not work?'

"Well, it's been lovely, but I really should go." Black Ice kicked the door open, still holding Molly by the throat. "See you in the Realm."

Molly managed a croaky scream as Black Ice leapt out the window, bringing her with him.

"No!" Jack rushed to the window and looked out. His face darkened like the obsidian night outside.  
There was no one to be seen below.

He turned the Lucy and Jamie, who were looking rattled. Lucy wiped her eye, but her expression was angry rather than hurt.

If she could be tough, so could he.

Jack's face hardened. "Get ready," He said, "We're going after them."


	45. Chapter 44: Call of the Past

Chapter 44: Call of the Past  


The Realm was silent as a tomb as the three teens emerged from the shadows. Jamie and Lucy's teeth were chattering from having rode the wind with Jack, but when they were met by the place's censorship, breaking the quiet seemed almost sinful. The two mortals shook off their coldness and looked around, fear vibing through them. The iron cages hung in the air, completely immobile. There was no wind to move them, or to give any indication that this place was inhabited. It seemed as if the entire cave were holding its breath, waiting for the quagmire to take place.

Jack was the first to speak. His voice bounced off the cracked cave walls like one of Bunny's boomerangs. "Okay, guys. This place is too big to cover all at once. We should split up."

"Are you nuts?" Lucy asked, "If we split up, the Boogeyman will just pick us off one at a time."

Jack scoffed, "You both have weapons and I have my staff. That seems like enough, doesn't it?"

Lucy's mouth became a thin line, but she said no more.

"And Jamie," Jack turned to his friend, icy-blue meeting chocolate-brown, "You have the globe. If anything goes wrong, use it to get back to the Pole and warn the others."

Jamie nodded, "Got it."

Jack nodded in return and was about to leave when Lucy suddenly blurted, "Jack!"

He turned around just in time to register the girl's arms wrap around him. He froze into place, his eyes wide.

Lucy held him tightly, as though she feared he would disappear if she let go. She whispered in his ear, "Be careful."

Jack felt his immortal heart pick up its pace, and just for a second, he regretted having the team split up. He returned the hug, "I promise." Lucy, satisfied of the answer let go of him and stepped away. She slipped her hand in her pocket to make sure the knife was still there. When her fingertips brushed the leather handle, she nodded to herself and looked at the boys. She looked like she wanted to say something, then stopped herself and bolted into the first tunnel. Jack watched her go, an unreadable expression on his face.

Despite the situation, Jamie smirked at his friend. "I saw that."

Jack returned his gaze, oblivious. "What?"

"You like each other, don't you?"

If Jamie had slapped Jack, the winter sprite wouldn't have looked any different. His pale face turned moonstone-white, and his jaw dropped. After a moment, he recovered and forced a laugh. "What? Pfft. No."  
Jamie rolled his eyes, "Jack, I remember how it was like when we were younger. You always had a soft spot for Lucy."

"Ew!" Jack shuddered, "What am I, a pedophile? I wasn't interested in her like-"

"That's not what I meant!" Jamie rushed in, his cheeks reddening when he realized what he'd implied. "All I meant was, you two have always been close, and now that you're the same age..." He shrugged, "How do you feel about her? Honestly?"

"Well..." Jack dug deep into himself, trying to decipher his emotions. He didn't have an answer for his friend for a few minutes. Finally, he looked up. "I still don't remember everything we did together when you were kids, but...I've always seen her as a little sister, like the one I lost, y'know? And I thought that hadn't changed...but now..."  
He shrugged, "I don't know, I just...I want her to be happy, and when she smiles, I feel like smiling, too. She's really smart and brave and...I feel like I can really talk to her without editing everything I say." He wiped his eyes, which had started to brim over, "And when I found out what I did...to her parents...I don't think I'll ever forgive myself."

Jamie scratched the back of his head, his eyes clouded over with thought. Finally, he nodded, "I think...you should tell her. That you're sorry, I mean."

Jack gave him a look. "I killed her family; I don't think she'll let that slide."

"Hey," Jamie held up a hand, "Nobody makes it through life without running into pain. It's just a part of life." His face hardened, "But you have to learn to deal with it and try to move on."

Jack said nothing, but Jamie could tell that his words had dug in deep. He patted his friend on the back and held up his knife. "I'll look for Molly in the other hall. You look in the throne room, okay?"

Jack nodded and, hugging his staff the same way a child would with a teddy bear, he levitated into the room of cages. Jamie waited until he was out of sight before running into the corridor.

The door sealed after him, cutting off his exit.

* * *

Molly leaned against the wall of her cell, panting and gritting her teeth in pain. She'd been trapped her for several hours, and she'd tried everything to try to escape: she'd tried picking the lock, sliding through the bars, and had even scratched at the wooden floorboards in a last, wild attempt to get out. But none of her exertions had been fruitful: the pick she'd found and used had shattered, the bars had somehow tightened when she'd tried to slide through, and even when her nails were bleeding like open faucets, she'd barely left a scratch on the floor.

Her nails were a wreck now, too. Her fingertips were wet and crimson, and the pain radiating from them was enough to force tears down her cheeks.

She groaned and hugged her knees to her chest, trying so hard not to cry. She couldn't decide what she hated the most: the pain, her imprisonment, or the threat posed to her enemy.

That Lucy...she was at the center of it all! If she hadn't shown up, everything would be fine!

Molly was convinced that Pitch wanted her, and she was even more certain that Lucy was (or at least been) in kahoots with him. How did Molly know that this whole 'being nice' wasn't just an act?

She needed to know.

Molly glanced at her teeth. They'd been thrown in with her, and amongst the darkness and cold cave rocks, the small golden box was looking especially inviting.

It was now or never. She'd been holding it off for seven years, out of pure fear of what she would find.

But now...no more fear.

Wincing at the electrifying pain in her fingertips, Molly leaned forward and grabbed the box, staining the gold scarlet. She turned it over and over in her bleeding hands, taking in every detail. Her smiling picture stared back at her, cloudy-gray eyes free of worries and pain.

Molly took a deep breath and unlocked it.

A blinding light exploded from the box. Molly found herself tumbling into her memories, thousands of shards glittering with forgotten moments...

_Burgess, 2001_

Dr. Hyde, the town's best psychologist

,_ rolled_ _his eyes as the little girl in front of him continued to rant. She continued to insist that she hadn't been lying, as all children do at some point. It would've been almost amusing if she hadn't been so angry._

_"I wasn't lying!" She shouted, making her mother look even more embarrassed._

_"Molly, please sit down." Dr. Hyde said, trying to sound reassuring more than exhausted. "I'm just saying that these things you imagine are-"_

_"It's real!" Molly shouted, "I saw the girl! That Lucy girl! She's evil! I saw her, but grown up! Her skin was gray, and her eyes were yellow, and she made this creepy noise when she smiled-"_

_"Molly," Dr. Hyde cut her off harshly, "You went after a girl several years younger than you with a kitchen knife. You could've seriously harmed her, maybe even killed her."_

_"**But she has to die!**" Molly protested, "If I don't kill her, she's gonna kill **me!** I saw her, coming towards me, smiling at me, grabbing my hair-"_

_"Miss McFadden, may I suggest putting your daughter under permanent supervision?" Dr. Hyde asked, "I fear she may be suffering from paranoia, maybe even schizophrenia."_

_"What?" Molly's eyes widened, "No, Mommy! Don't let them take me! **Mommy!**"_

_The image darkened. A nurse's voice stated. "She isn't responding to her medication at all. We're going to have to try something new."_

_Throughout the asylum, a little girl's voice wailed. "No...no! It **hurts! **SOMEONE! LISTEN TO ME! I SHOULDN'T BE HERE!"_

Molly curled up in an even tighter ball as sobs shook her body. Now, she understood. She finally comprehended why she'd always delayed looking at her past: it'd been too much. She'd seen what Lucy would eventually become, and when she'd try to stop her vision from coming true, she'd been locked up and forgotten.

Just like now.

Molly cried even louder, her sobs echoing through the Realm.

* * *

Jamie ran through the halls, trying to stay out of the shadows' reach. The walls were painted with black, clawed hands that moved. Every time he passed, they reached out to grab him, but he distanced himself as much as he could.

He leaned against a wall, panting and spluttering. He didn't know how long he'd been here; it could've been minutes, hours, or even days. In this dark void, time was completely insignificant.

If he hadn't known that Lucy and Jack were somewhere here, looking for their stolen friend, Jamie would've sworn that he was completely alone.

In that moment, he thanked whatever god was out there that he hadn't brought Sophie along. He'd actually considered bringing her to this awful place, just because he'd feared a Night Mare attacking the Pole while the others were absent. What had he been thinking? A Night Mare may have been a challenge, but Sophie would be as good as dead here.

Sophie was all Jamie had now. His mother was dead, thanks to that godforsaken Sweet Serpent. If something happened to his little sister as well...

"Jamie!"

The boy looked up, his heart pounding like a drum in his chest. What he saw made him drop his weapon.

Sophie was standing in front of him, hugging herself and fear glittering in her emerald orbs.

"Jamie...I'm scared..." She whispered.

Jamie swallowed with an audible click. How had she gotten here? The three of them had flown here! How had Sophie hitched a ride?  
...No, that didn't matter right now. What really mattered was getting his sister out of here before something found her. He reached out, "I-it's okay-"

Sophie darted down the halls.

"Soph!" Jamie ran after her, fear fuelling his system. He followed his little sister through a series of twists and turns, just barely avoiding tripping himself. He didn't know how Sophie could run so quickly, or make up her mind so quickly, but he brushed off his curiousities. Sophie's safety came first.

Finally, they reached a dead end. Sophie crouched down, her back to her big brother. Jamie wiped his sweating lip as the adrenaline coursed through his veins. He looked around, suspicion finally settling in. Why were they here? It was closed off, completely cut off from the rest of the Realm. There was only one exit: the way they'd come.

"Sophie?" He called. His voice didn't echo; the shadows swallowed it up.

Jamie didn't see his sister's face. He didn't see the skin, which was quickly turning gray; he didn't see those huge green eyes turn gold; he didn't see that wide, demented smile with dagger-sharp teeth.

Until Sophie spun around and pounced on him.

A screaming Jamie crashed on the hard rock floor. The globe rolled out of his pocket and began to glow.

* * *

Lucy climbed up the cave walls despite her muscles' protest. She didn't know how, but she'd run in a dead end; when she'd turned around to go back the way she'd come, the tunnel had vanished.

There'd been only one way to go: up.

She continued to climb. Her black skinny jeans and 'My Chemical Romance' T-shirt clung to her sweaty body. As she forced herself towards the opening in the ceiling, she pondered on the feeling nested in her heart.

This place...it felt so...familiar.

But why? Had she really...been here before? Why?

Lucy knew that she couldn't answer these questions, but one thing was certain: for reasons she couldn't fathom...she didn't feel in danger here.

She felt...protected, like the Realm wouldn't let anything happen to her.

A silhouette blocked the light coming from the hole. Lucy looked up, her body going rigid with fear.

A long arm reached down, slowly and painfully. It was black up to the wrist, where the material faded in with the skin. The bony hand was a gruesome sight: the light gray flesh was coated in deep black cracks, like an ancient vase. It looked ready to come apart any second, but at the same time, it moved with life.

Lucy's eyes trailed from the deformed hand to its owner, who sat on the edge of the hole. She couldn't make out his (she was sure that it was a man) features because of the light behind him, but she could see his glossy hair, which was styled in spikes curving towards the back of his head.

His gold eyes glowed as they bore into hers.

_**"Welcome home, Melinda."**_


	46. Chapter 45: Unleashed

**Part of it is inspired by 'Silent Hill 2: Revelation'. Enjoy.**

Chapter 45: Unleashed

Lucy stood in the center of the shadows, her heart pounding against her ribs like a drum. The darkness seemed to shift and contort, changing shape every few minutes. The forms made Lucy's inside tighten like a spring; they weren't frightening, but they all screamed with familiarity.

The Boogeyman kneeling before her ten-year-old self, offering his pale gray hand.

Her thirteen-year-old self, dressed in a terrifyingly familiar outfit.

Her fifteen-year-old self, standing among destruction with Marco's head in her grasp.

The Boogeyman holding her close, whispering comforting words to her.

With each image, Lucy felt the veil in her mind dissolve a bit more. Goose bumps coated her skin, and she had to make fists to keep her hands from shaking. Now, she was certain that these weren't illusions. If they had been, Lucy wouldn't feel so..._familiarized_ with them. This explained where she'd been all these years, too. The reality sunk in like water in soil.

She'd been with the Boogeyman.

She was an enemy of the ones who had taken her in.

She was..._Jack's_ enemy.

"No..." Lucy whispered to herself, shaking her head in denial. This couldn't be true. She couldn't be the Sweet Serpent. They were too different people. How could...?

Something shifted being her. Lucy spun around, all of her senses alert.

The Sweet Serpent stood there, eyeing her through the skull's empty sockets. The two beings stared at each other for a long moment. Then, the Sweet Serpent purred, "**Hello..._self_.**"

"No!" Lucy barked.

She blinked, then the Sweet Serpent was right in front of her. The person grabbed her shoulders, squeezing hard enough to bend tendons. Lucy yelped, but the person ignored her pain.

"**What, are you denying me now?**" The Sweet Serpent snapped, "**_You_ gave _me _life because your hatred refused to die. You can't kill a part of yourself**."

Lucy broke free of the Sweet Serpent's grasp. She didn't notice the shadows closing in on both of them. "What're you talking about?!"

The Sweet Serpent blinked, then grinned, "**_Kssh_. You didn't know? When you went to rescue the Bennett brat, you hit your head. That blow erased all of your recent memories, but they didn't go away. They found another way out.**" It put a clawed hand on its chest. "**Me. Your subconscious gathered all your memories, and all your hatred, and they made me.**" The smile vanished; the being looked at Lucy almost enviously. "**I'm the part of you that can't escape this pain. I can't...live and feel love like you can.**"

Lucy knew she should've hated this person. This being had killed Sophie and Jamie's mother, it had stolen the Dream Sand, and had tried to kill Jack. This being was the center of all the craziness that had been going on.  
But now...its tone was so upset, like it couldn't help what it was. It was a pillar of hatred, destined to know what love was but never able to experience it.  
Lucy couldn't help pity the being. She asked, "You really can't feel anything?"

The Sweet Serpent vanished, then rematerialized behind Lucy. "**Nothing but hatred**."

Lucy spun around, and her chestnut eye locked with the Sweet Serpent's golden ones. Now, the shadows were agitated. They transformed into Night Mares as they began speeding around the two, neighing impatiently.

Lucy snapped out of the trance. She'd come here for a reason: to rescue Molly. This being was in the way. Lucy snarled and grabbed the Sweet Serpent by the throat. The skin on her hand turned black, and it burned like a thousand fires. But Lucy held on, pulling out the knife she'd kept tucked away. Never looking away from the Sweet Serpent's gaze, she held the knife to the being's throat.

"I don't care what you are. Your friend kidnapped Molly. You killed Mrs. Bennett. You sent everything in disarray." She gritted her teeth, "Do you really think I won't kill you?"

"**I don't care.**" The Sweet Serpent answered as the Night Mares drew closer, "**I. _Am._ You.**"

It wrapped its arms around Lucy, but it wasn't out of affection. The second the Sweet Serpent's arms rested on the girl's skin, it started to disintegrate and sink into the pores. It felt like someone had dumped boiling oil on Lucy's skin, and her head felt ready to explode. The girl's screams of pain filled the air like razors. Lucy's eyes rolled back as all the memories started flashing back into her mind. Fragmented pieces and distant voices surrounded her as the Night Mares neighed, perhaps in celebration that their princess had returned.

Images appeared in Lucy's mind, and with them came voices of the past.

_Lucy saw her ten-year-old self, her eyes wide with disbelief._

_"...Lucy...it's your parents."_

_Jack recoiled as the young child screamed at him. As she lashed out at him, tears streamed down her face like transparent pearls._

_"Cuz I've had it with you and-and your guardians! Where were they when my parents died? Where the heck were they?!"_

_Marco smiled smugly at the young child._

_"It's simple, really. You keep quiet, and I'll keep quiet. Everybody's happy. But, if you tell Mom about the coke, I will tell them what you said."_

_Pitch held his hand out to her, his eyes soft as liquid gold._

_"Come with me, Lucy. I will give you a purpose in this world."_

_11-year-old Lucy glared at the blonde girl, clutching her wounded shoulder._

_"Go away. Leave us alone."_

The Sweet Serpent's form was almost gone now, but Lucy had long since stopped screaming. An emotion filled her every nerve, a sentiment that she hadn't known since reawakening in North's shop.

Hatred.

Acrimony against all of those worthless guardians, every last one of them.

Including Jack Frost, the killer of her parents and the one who had caused her suffering.

The only thing left of the Sweet Serpent was its head, and even that was disappearing with every passing second. It grinned one last time, content with the completion of the mission.

"**We are one**," It sighed, "**_Again_**."

Lucy smiled darkly and closed her eyes.

The Night Mares engulfed her completely.

* * *

Jamie sprinted out of the corridors as quickly as he could, clutching his arm. Warm blood trailed after him, staining through his sleeve. Terror gripped every fiber of his being, urging him to get away from the demon as quickly as possible. After 'Sophie' had shown its true form, it had attacked Jamie and nearly bitten his arm off.

Jamie had only just escaped, and even that had been out of pure luck. The snow-globe had fallen out of his pocket, and the glow had distracted the Fearling. Jamie had kicked it in the jaw before racing out of the hall, grabbing the snow-globe along the way.

From the distance, Jamie could see the throne room. Despite the burning pain in his arm, the teenager grinned. He'd made it!

A pair of gray hands grabbed him by the ankles and pulled. Jamie screamed as he fell flat on his face, crushing the air out of his lungs. The fall sent fresh spasms of pain in his arm. Jamie cried out, but before he could do anything else, the hands tightened their hold around his ankles and dragged him back into the darkness.

Jamie unleashed a scream of pure horror. His good arm clawed the stony floor, desperate for something to hold onto.

"No! No no no! Let go of me! JACK!" He hollered.

"_Hii-yah!_"

A flash of white, and the temperature lowered by thirty degrees. The Sophie-Fearling stopped pulling Jamie. Its empty eyes widened in shock as it stared at the white-haired boy in front of it. He was crouched down, and his staff was held low. The end was glowing with blue winter energy.

Black sand was dripping from Jack's face, but his lips were set in a grim smile.

The Fearling's head slipped off its shoulders and crashed to the ground. Then, it turned back to Nightmare Sand. The same happened to the body.

Jamie lay there, clutching his bleeding arm and panting uncontrollably. Jack turned to his friend, and his expression morphed into one of concern. He knelt down and inspected the damage. "Jamie, what happened?"

"I'm not sure." Jamie replied, his gaze still transfixed to the pile of black sand. "I heard Sophie, so I went to her. Only...it wasn't her."

Jack nodded darkly. "I've been here before; it's not safe. It'll tap into your darkest fears."

Jamie nodded, "Who knows what kind of hell Molly's been put through."

Jack pursed his lips together, saying nothing. He took the snow-globe from his friend's hand and shook it, "We need backup."

* * *

The Night Mares parted, neighing at the fallen girl. They looked at her, then at each other. Then, they flew off into the Realm, ready to 'greet' their visitors.

Once they were gone, a wheelchair appeared. In it was a feeble old man with graying, spiked dark hair and cracked skin. The only part of him that seemed to be alive was his eyes, and right now, they were focused on the girl like she was the only thing he could see.  
For a moment, he reveled in the silence. Then, he shattered it by speaking the name he held close to his heart.  
"Melinda?"

The girl's eyes slowly opened. One eye was completely white, unseeing and unseen. The other was a deep, glowing amber.

* * *

Molly banged on the stone walls of her cell, trying not to cry. After the horrifying realization, she'd become even more desperate to escape. Everything fit together perfectly, like some horrible puzzle of death.

She'd been sent to the asylum for trying to kill Lucy.

And she'd tried to kill Lucy because she'd seen what the girl would become.

A monster.

Molly screamed, "LET ME OUT!" Her hands were swollen and bleeding, but she didn't care. Her ankle was chained and there wasn't anything she could use to pick the lock. She'd spent all this time searching for a hidden door or loose stone that she could use.

Nothing. This cell was fool-proof.

Molly banged her fists one last time before sliding back to her knees. Sobs bubbled in her throat, but she refused to let them out. She couldn't be here. She had to protect Jack and the others from that...that _thing_.

"Ah." A voice called from the darkness, "I see you've finally figured it out." The voice tuttered mockingly, "Though I was expecting you to piece it together sooner." A figure appeared from the shadows, "But no matter. There's nothing you can do for your little friends anyway."

Molly spat at the Boogeyman's feet, but he either didn't notice or ignored it. The girl growled, "What the hell do you want?"

"Your death." Pitch answered in a velvety voice, "And the death of your friends. You see, you tried to take away the one thing that was keeping me alive. Granted, I have it back now, but I still feel that you have been far too bothersome." Pitch grinned, "If we kill all of you lot, there shan't be anyone to bother us anymore." He glanced behind his shoulder. "What do you think, sweetheart?"

"I think," A figure stepped out, "that they were stupid enough to cast us away, and even _more_ stupid to underestimate us."

"_YOU!_" Molly tried to tackle the figure, but the chain held her back. Molly looked back at it with a whine, then tugged at it uselessly.

"By the way, Molly..."

The girl glared back at the figure.

"...I never liked you. At all."

"I never even wanted to know you." Molly hissed, "You may have fooled the others, but I always knew there was something wrong with you!"

Lucy chuckled, "Oh, really? Is that why you didn't do anything to stop me?"

"SHUT UP!" Molly grabbed a rock and threw it at Lucy, but the girl dodged it. A second later, Molly felt herself being grabbed by the hair. Squeezing her eyes shut, she griped in pain as someone forced her two feet above the ground. Molly opened her eyes and found herself looking into Lucy's. Now that they were this close, Molly could see that the girl's eyes had changed. Instead of being chestnut, they were as gold as Pitch's.

Lucy's shadow twitched, then changed shape. It transformed into a thousand hissing snakes with glowing gold eyes. Molly's breath hitched as the shadow-serpents wrapped around her legs, arms, and torso. Once they did, Molly's body parts went numb. A word escaped her lips as the snakes climbed higher and higher towards her face.

"W...why?"

Lucy smiled, "Because...I...**hate**...everything. Ruin everything. Kill everything."

The last thing Molly McFadden saw was Lucy grinning at her. The girl's skin turned pale gray, and her eyes glowed. As Molly's world faded, the Sweet Serpent's words echoed in her mind.

_"I inflict fear on **everything.**"_


	47. Chapter 46: Dice with Deceit

Chapter 46: Dice With Deceit

"North," Bunny spoke up for the first time in hours, and he wasn't exactly the living example of relaxation. "D'ya reckon Jamie, Lucy, and Frostbite are alright?"

"Ah." North brushed off the Pooka's concern, but his own wrinkled face was plastered with anxiety. "I am sure zey are fine. Lucy eez strong, as eez Jack. Zey vill protect Jamie and bring Molly back."  
Bunny sighed, "I hope yer right, mate. 'Cuz I can't shake off this feelin'."

"What feeling?" Tooth asked nervously, trying to mask her own angst. Even Sandman, who'd been busy sending sweet dreams to the children via the window, arched a golden brow.

"Like...I dunno." Bunny shrugged, "Like somethin' awful's gonna happen."  
Sandman offered his friend a sympathetic pat on the back. After a moment, the giant rabbit smiled, "Thanks, mate."  
On that moment, a portal appeared in front of them, sending blasts of cold wind throughout the Pole. Tooth hugged herself as her white teeth chattered, while Bunny practically froze. North, undisturbed by the sudden coldness, stared at the portal with dread. "Zat eez Jack." He stated firmly, "I gave him zee snowglobe in case of emergency. Zomething eez wrong."

Tooth's tan face went white, but she gritted her teeth, "Well, we've gotta help them."

"Right you are, shiela." Bunny whipped out his boomerangs and, with a nervous gulp, ran through the portal. Sandman followed on a cloud of dream sand.

Tooth and North shared a long look, finalized by a nod, before stepping through the doorway as well.

* * *

The cell that had once held Molly McFadden was silent. Black sand was splattered everywhere, and blood painted the walls. The air was heavy with the scent of blood and death. A body lay on the cold cave floor, still twitching in a puddle of thick crimson liquid. The head, however, had been removed from the neck, leaving the white bone and muscle visible.

A photograph was lying amongst the destruction, torn and forgotten. In stark contrast to the gruesome scene, the photo displayed a trio of friends on a snowy day. Jack Frost, stooped over so that he was the same height as his friends, had his arms around two children. One was a laughing boy with chocolate-brown hair and a missing tooth. The other was a girl with olive skin and chin-length russet hair, which the boy was trying to grab. The girl was pushing him away, a huge smile on her face.

She was nothing like the teenager standing a few feet away, her black clothes dripping with blood. Silence reigned as she stared at the robe, clawed gloves, and snake skull that her father had laid out. For a while, neither of them spoke.

Finally, the girl broke the silence. She shivered, like a draft had suddenly found its way in. "I can feel intruders. Does that mean that Frost called in reinforcements?" She paused, "What should we do, Father?"

Pitch Black chuckled, which ended in a coughing fit. "Are you asking me, child?"

A solemn nod.

Pitch shook his head, "No, Melinda. My time is nearly up. This is _your_ kingdom now. Only you may decide what happens to those who invade it."

A sob formed in Melinda's throat, but she swallowed it down. "...Very well."

She grabbed the cloak and the gloves, putting them on in one rapid motion. The girl hesitated before picking up the skull as well. She pressed it against her face, a small smile on her lips.

Pitch smiled tiredly, "Behold, the Sweet Serpent. The Abandoned One." He nodded at her, "You are just as the shadows have made you."

Melinda's smile grew at his words. Any trace of hesitation she'd had was gone now. She knew what she had to do.

She pushed the mask so that it covered only half of her face. Her gold eye shimmered in the darkness like a candle.

"**_Kssh._**"

* * *

The guardians knew something was wrong the moment they entered the Realm. None of them had ever stepped foot in this horrid place before, for obvious reasons. Another thing that kept them at bay was the number of spirits that had lost their minds upon entering. In fact, Jack was the only known guardian to have ever entered the Realm and left with his sanity intact.

And now, standing at the cave's mouth, they couldn't understand how the white-haired boy had managed.

The air reeked of blood, fear, and death. Twilight was rapidly approaching, and the Night Mares were eagerly chasing the last golden streaks out of their kingdom. The shadows shifted and moved as the guardians reluctantly entered. Several pairs of golden eyes opened and leered at the four guardians, and menacing cackles echoed through the cave.

Sandman's chubby face hardened. He held his hand out, and a large, pulsing ball of glowing dream sand appeared. With a flick of his wrist, the dream sand transformed into a thousand golden ribbons. They flew through the twisted corridors like insane birds, illuminating the Realm. In seconds, the air was filled with horrible, pained screeches of Fearlings. One collapsed out of its hiding place as the ribbon curled around it. Its screams flooded the air as its skin blackened and fell away like ash, then the muscles and bone. A moment later, the Fearling was cremated where it lay.

Tooth shuddered.

"Jack!" North called, trying to hide the note of disgust in his voice.

"North!" Came the reply. The guardians didn't realize they'd been holding their breaths until they sighed in relief.

"Just stay where you are! We're comin' to get you!" Bunny yelled as he pulled out his boomerangs.

"Charge!" North bellowed, and the four immortals raced through the halls. The golden ribbons above their heads illuminated their paths. Jack continued to holler to make sure he and Jamie were found. With every step, his yells grew closer. Just as his shouts were right around the corner, Tooth's eye caught something. She stopped as her three teammates continued to run, oblivious.

A framed photo was nailed to the cave wall. It was the first evidence that Tooth had seen that someone actually lived here, but that wasn't what brought her hand to her lips.

The picture, dated a year ago, had been taken in Transylvania. The sky was a dark, impenetrable gray, and snow was steadily falling down. The trees reached out to catch the snowflakes, and the air was stiff with frigidness.

The two people in the picture were by no means affected by the cold. For one thing, one of the people was **_Pitch_**. Tooth couldn't believe her eyes. He looked so...different from the monster she knew. Instead of standing up straight, he was slightly hunched over, like his spine couldn't take being upright anymore. He was clothed in the traditional, V-neck robe Tooth had always seen him wearing, but the gray skin was cracking. His hands were virtually falling apart, and his spiky black hair was streaked with white and gray. He was clearly in pain, but there was a twinkle in his gold eyes that Tooth had never seen before.

He almost looked like...one of them. A being with feelings instead of a lust for destruction and power. It was enough to make Tooth stop flying.

The girl in Pitch's embrace was around sixteen years old, also draped in thick black clothes. She had long, wavy russet hair that spilled down her shoulders and tickled her waist; some of it had been combed to cover the right side of her face, but she was grinning like the Cheshire cat.

Tooth recognized her in a heartbeat. She reached out and touched the photo lightly, with just one fingertip.

A word left her lips and hung in the air like a moonbeam.

"...Lucy?"

A blood-curling scream sliced through the air like a two-edged sword. Tooth nearly jumped out of her skin, but her wings were beating a second later. Taking one last look at the photograph, she flew towards her companions.

* * *

_Meanwhile..._

"Jack!" North's arms, thick as tree trunks, wrapped around Jack's tiny frame. The winter sprite gasped and choked, but tears of relief streamed down his cheeks like broken strings of pearls. He hugged his father figure back, relieved to see a familiar face in this hellhole.

Then, Jamie coughed, and that reminded the guardian of fun why he'd come. He pulled away and looked at his three friends, "Guys, we can't do this on our own. We've tried finding Molly, but we've lost Lucy and Jamie was almost killed."

"What?!" Bunny shouted. Without waiting for an explanation, he raised his voice. "Pitch, you dog! Where are ya?!"

"Well-mannered as always, Aster." A smooth voice commented. Everyone twisted their heads to see what used to be the Boogeyman. Now, he looked almost pathetic: confined to a wheelchair, his back as curved as the Hunchback of Notre Dame, wearing mittens to hide his rotting hands, and wispy hair that was more gray than black.

Despite his aggressive concern for his missing friends, Jack snorted. He twirled his staff between his fingertips. Fighting Pitch would be as easy as eating a biscuit.

"Are you serious?" He asked, "You do realize that I can chop your head right off, right? Then, finding Molly and Lucy should be child's play."

Pitch smiled wickedly, like he knew some delicious secret that everyone else did not. "Oh, I highly doubt that."

"What's that s'possed to mean?!" Bunny piped up, holding up his boomerang, "If you've harmed 'em, I swear to Manny-"

"Relax, furball, I haven't harmed a hair on Molly's head. As for the girl you call 'Lucy'..." He ended the sentence with a chuckle.

Sandman quickly created a golden bow and arrow, and fired the arrow straight at Pitch's face. The Boogeyman didn't budge, watching as the golden arrow zoomed towards him...

...and a Night Mare shot up out of the ground and bit it in half. Sandman gasped and took a giant step back, shock written all over his face.

Pitch smiled and stroked the Night Mare, wincing as he did so. "Good girl." He turned to the Sandy, "Is that really the best you can do, Mansnooze? I thought you were actually going to entertain me."

Then, without missing a beat, he ducked. The stone wall behind him recieved a deep gash, right where his face had been an instant before. He looked back up and shot Bunny a look that could freeze Hell over.

"Now that I've got yer attention," Bunny began with a smirk, "Where they hell're the girls?! We know you've got 'em!"

"Yes and no. My daughter has Molly." He turned to the stony floor. "Darling?"

The shadows on the ground writhed like angry snakes, and a moment later, that's exactly what they morphed into. Five-foot-long serpents as thick as pipes hissed wrathfully at the outsiders, their golden eyes glowing like funeral pyres. Sandman summoned his sand-whips, ready to defend his comrades. North whipped out his blades, Bunny two more boomerangs, and Jack his staff. Jamie was the only one without a weapon, but his facial expression was far from vulnerable.

A figure rose from the shadows, and everyone held their breath.

It was clad in a torn, black cape that moved as though alive, with the hood up. A snake skull rested covered the person's head and most of his/her face.

Jack's blood turned to ice. His mind flashed back to that terrible Halloween night four years ago, and that godforsaken day in Sandman's palace.

The words came out in a whisper. "The Sweet Serpent."

The figure grinned, "**_Kssh_**." Then, he/she reached into his/her robes and extracted something. Then, the Sweet Serpent held it up for everyone to see.

Jack's pupils shrunk to the size of pins. The person was holding something silky, and the color of corn. It was dripping blood, and even though it was painfully familiar, Jack didn't want to admit it.

The Sweet Serpent was holding Molly's head, severed at the neck, by the blood-soaked hair.

The air was deathly still for a moment.

Then, Jack screamed, "**_NOOOOO!_**"

The snakes took the noise as a sign of aggression. Within seconds, they were swarming around the guardians. The guardians' weapons managed to keep the dark serpents at bay, but they were getting battered pretty badly, too. The Sweet Serpent watched from Pitch's side, a grin planted on his/her face. Jack paid no attention to the fighting around him. He dropped to his knees, staring at the chopped-off head of his friend like it was all he could see.

Tears dripped down his face. "W...why?"

**"I'm teaching you what it's like to lose someone you love."** The Sweet Serpent said in a deathly serious voice. **"That's what pain is."**

With that, he/she flicked his/her wrist. Part of the ceiling broke apart and started crashing down. Jack looked up just in time and zapped the stones with his staff. They turned into an ice sculpture around him, but he'd barely noticed. As if in a daze, he blinked furiously, trying to see what he was missing.

"Lucy..." He whispered, "Where's Lucy?"

The Sweet Serpent floated high in the air, an arm raised. With a grimace, the person answered the winter spirit's question:

**"Lucy is dead."**

Jack's heart felt like it'd been impaled with a white-hot iron. He didn't even notice his enemy tighten his/her hand into a fist, or the wave of Nightmare Sand pouring out from his/her robes. He didn't notice the Realm's violent shaking, or the iron cages clashing against each other. Suddenly, the floor under him crumbled away, sending him - and the other guardians - crashing down below.

The Boogeyman, on the back of a Night Mare, called to the Sweet Serpent. "Come! It isn't safe!"

The Sweet Serpent suddenly jerked his/her head, as if awakening from a deep slumber. He/she nodded, "Yes, Father." Then, the creature began to levitate into the air, following the herd of terrified Night Mares.

Molly's head was still dangling in his/her claws.

As he tumbled down, Jack's tears crashed down like frozen diamonds. His face slowly morphed into a sneer, and the end of his staff glowed white.

_"Why..."_

He thought of Mrs. Bennett. Of Sophie nearly drowning. Of those children four years ago, scared out of their minds.

_"...is it **always.**.."_

Sandman's destroyed home. The Warren in ruins. Bunny spending days in the hospital.

_"...**YOU**..."_

Molly. Lucy. Both brave, both loyal, and now, both dead.

_"...**BASTARD!**"_

A brilliant white flash shot out from Jack's entire being. It was all of Jack's anger, fear, pain, and most of all, hatred. It transformed into a thousands ice daggers, which flew towards the enemy like a swarm of volutures. They flew straight for the Sweet Serpent, some impaling the Night Mares along the way.

"No!" Tooth rushed in, her eyes wide with panic, "That's-!"

The Sweet Serpent did the only thing he/she could do at the last minute: he/she looked away to avoid getting hit in the face. Daggers impaled his/her chest, arms, anf legs.

One lone dagger sliced him/her across the cheek, digging into the skull-mask as it did so.

The serpent's skull flew off the person's face, shattering into a hundred pieces once it hit the bottom.

Russet hair spilled out from the hood.

Jack's eyes slowly widened. Everything went in slow-motion. As he slowly continued his descent, he watched as the worst horror of them all unraveled before him.

The hood fell away, and the moon peeked out from a dark cloud, shining down on the destroyed Realm.

The last thing Jack saw was her face, which was streaked in blood and tears.

Lucy, wearing that torn cloak the color of darkness. Wearing those bloody gloves with curved claws. Holding his friend's head like a trophy. Her skin was a pale gray color instead of the olive tone it should've been. Their eyes met, her own glistening with tears. One eye was completely white and blind; the other was as gold as Pitch's.

The Sweet Serpent.

That was the last thing Jack saw before his world went black.


	48. Chapter 47: Kill My Will

Chapter 47: Kill My Will  


_"I did this to myself."_

The moon hung high in the ebony sky, casting an eerie blue light over Burgess. At this late hour, nearly all the residents were asleep, their dark windows proving it. The pine trees stood majestically in the pale blue snow. A figure stepped out from behind one of them. It was a young girl, maybe seventeen or eighteen, wearing a shredded black cloak streaked in rubble. With a gloved hand resting on the bark, the girl gazed at her town.

_"I could've said no that day. I could've gotten up and run home. I could've forgotten I'd ever seen the Boogeyman."_

The claws dug into the bark.

_"But I didn't. I went with him. By doing this, I lost myself. I turned into something else."_

The girl bolted through the forest, barely leaving footprints in her wake. She didn't stop running until she reached a house just at the town's border. The inhabitants of this house were sleeping, too.

Good. At least they wouldn't suffer. They would never awaken from their slumber.

Melinda reached into her belt and pulled out a dagger as black as midnight. Slowly, deliberately, she made her way towards the residence.

_"I did it because Pitch gave me hope. I finally had a reason to live again. And with him, I finally felt like I was part of a family."_ She looked up at the moon, keeping her face blank. Then, she slid her knife in the front door's lock. After a few seconds, the door yielded, opening with a creak.

_"I chose this path. Now, it's too late to go back. I have to live with it."_

Melinda caught a glimpse of the person inside. It was a man, maybe in his mid-fifties, sleeping peacefully on the couch. A half-finished book was lying by his side, and a wool blanket had been draped over his form.

Melinda's eye welled with tears, but at the same time, it glowed gold. She walked towards the man, holding the dagger in her hand.

_"I guess this is the part where you say it's not fair and feel sorry for me, right?"_

* * *

"Why did you allow Frost to live?"

Pitch sat at the foot of his daughter's new bed, his chin resting in his gloved palm. "He was right there in front of you, and when he lost consciousness it would've been child's play."

Melinda didn't reply. She was sprawled on the unmade bed, still wearing her ripped black cloak and bodysuit underneath it. Her clothes were soaked with blood, and the crimson drops stained the sheets. Her russet hair spread out like seaweed across the blankets, and her face was hidden in her hands.

Pitch shook his head. "Well, no matter. We managed to evade the guardians, and we shall be safe here. You did a very good job at evacuating the previous residents." His smile vanished."But you didn't have to do it. I could've done it myself."

"Er, Master?" A timid male voice disrupted the Nightmare King's thoughts.

"What is it, Black Ice?"

The pale, dark-haired boy pointed at the girl with a bloody finger. "She's sleeping."

Pitch's smile softened. "Ah, of course." He moved his wheelchair closer to the girl. She was indeed fast asleep, but she did not look peaceful. Her heart-shaped face was splattered with blood. Her mouth was set in a frown, and there were dark pouches under her eyes. Her eyebrows twitched every now and then.  
Pitch reached out and stroked the girl's cheek, relieved to finally be able to be close to his apprentice once again. How long had it been? A week? A month?

He shrugged. It didn't matter now. It wasn't happening again.

"Sleep well, my princess." He whispered. With some reluctance, he pulled his hand away and exited the room, Black Ice right behind him.

"So," Black Ice began, "What now? The Realm's been destroyed, and sooner or later the police is gonna see that this house is empty."

Pitch shrugged, "It will remain a mystery to the humans. If the police comes to investigate, we will simply take our leave. But that's not my main concern right now." He glanced over his shoulder. His eyes met Black Ice's. "Melinda almost lost control of her powers. That is why the Realm crumbled away; the Nightmare Sand was too much for her to handle. A human simply isn't meant to wield such power. And that is why," He smiled, "I'm going to turn her into an immortal."

Black Ice's face went bone-white. For a few seconds, shock kept him from talking. Then, when he found his voice again, he spoke shakily, "Sir...you can't guarantee that she'll rise up. She might end up like-"

"She _won't_." Pitch's voice was soft, but his eyes were as sharp as a two-edged sword. Black Ice felt like a butterfly that had been caught by a dart. He opened his mouth, then snapped it shut.  
Pitch nodded. "Because you can still be useful to me, I'll let that comment go. But one more word about my wife and daughter and I'll pull your spine out of your mouth. Understood?"

Black Ice's hand instinctively flew to his lips, and his gold eyes widened to the size of mangos. Swallowing hard, he nodded jerkily and bowed humbly. "U-understood. I'll tell the Night Mares to be careful when they leave."

"You do that." Pitch dismissed his servant with a wave of his hand. Black Ice bowed again for good measure before opening the window and taking off, as silent as a raven.

Pitch watched him go before turning back to Melinda. He took a moment to absorb every detail about her: her soft, steady breaths, her bloody clothes, and her long, tangled hair. As confident as he'd seemed that Melinda would rise up, he knew that there was a chance she would stay dead. MiM wasn't the only one who could turn humans into immortals, far from it. Back in his early days as the Nightmare King, Pitch had risen ancient armies to fight beside him. With undead armies, he'd brought down entire universes, and he had never been so powerful. People had gotten so terrified, they'd refuse to light their homes out of fear of being seen and killed.  
It hadn't been called 'The Dark Ages' for nothing.

Then, over the course of the years, he'd gotten lonely and decided to bring his family to this side, too.

Pitch paused. He hadn't thought about that for a long, _long_ time. He'd never even told Melinda about it. He'd just been too ashamed of his actions to confess.

But it was true. A few years after he became Pitch Black, he'd attacked his own family, taking them out one by one. In the space of a week, he killed his wife, parents, brother, and daughter. In the end, only his young daughter reawakened and became Mother Nature.

But not without a price. To punish Pitch for what he'd done, MiM intervened and erased Eartha's memory. To this day, she had no idea who Pitch really was. In the end, Pitch had gotten exactly what he'd feared. Exactly what he'd tried to avoid.

To be alone.

_'But it wasn't my fault.'_ He thought to himself for the thousandth time, _'I never **meant** for them to die. I thought they'd all resurrect and join me in this life. I thought we'd be a family forever.'_

Droplets splashed on Pitch's robes, and he realized he was crying. He snarled and angrily wiped his eyes. That was a thing of the past; it was ancient history. Crying over it wouldn't bring them back to life. Besides, he had a new family now; and he wasn't going to lose her again.

_'I swear to it.'_ He thought to himself firmly, _'Melinda **will** rise up. We'll be together forever.'_

* * *

"So...how's everyone doin', Tooth?" Bunny asked nervously. The hummingbird-like fairy sighed in reply. "North's got three broken ribs and a broken leg." She answered, "And Sandy broke an arm. Considering we were attacked by a herd of Night Mares, though, I'm glad that's all we got away with."

"Yeah." Bunny sighed and, with some difficulty, sat in North's deep red couch. "I still can't believe Lucy's...a monster." He paused, then glanced at Tooth. "That's a lie. I knew what she really was."

Tooth's violet eyes widened. "What?"

Bunny spent the next hour telling the fairy of that terrible night four years ago, when they'd all gone to hunt down the bringer of fear. He told her of the building in front of him exploding; he told of the only survivor being a girl with one dead eye, holding a boy's head by the hair.

"I recognized 'er the second she got 'ere." Bunny said sadly, "But I didn't say anythin'."

"Why not?" Tooth asked. "If we'd known-"

"_I couldn't._" Bunny cut her off, gritting his teeth. "I mean, I wanted to, but Frostbite just looked so..._happy_."

Tooth sighed, bringing a hand to her eyes. "I really don't know what to do now, to be honest."

"I do."

The two guardians yelped and whirled around. Jack Frost stood in the doorway, looking more serious than they'd ever seen him. His head was wrapped in bandages, and his arm was in a sling. But his eyes were colder than any blizzard he could whip up.

"The Sweet Serpent..." His good hand tightened on his staff. "I'm going to hunt her down and kill her."

Without waiting for a reply, he spun on his heel and began to walk away.

"Wait!" Tooth blurted out.

"SHUT UP!" Jack shouted, turning back to his two teammates. Tooth gasped; he might have looked angry, but his eyes were glassy with tears. "You knew, and you didn't tell me! How do you think I felt, huh?! Knowing that the girl I lo-liked is the goddamn enemy?!"

"She's not!" Bunny shouted, "She's just bein' manipulated by Pitch. We gotta try to get 'er back."

"NO!" Jack snapped, "She doesn't deserve another chance! I'm gonna kill her, and anyone who wants to help can come!"

He turned and started walking down the hall, gritting his teeth to hold it all in.

Tooth's voice floated towards him.

"You're going to kill her because you don't understand her, right?"

Jack froze. Silence hung over the three immortals for ten heartbeats. Everything he'd been thinking took a backseat as the words carved themselves into his mind.

He blinked several times and looked back at the fairy. The anger had disappeared from his face. "What do you mean?" He asked softly.

Tooth sighed, "We're afraid of things because we don't understand them. We don't understand Pitch, and we're frightened of him. People fear death because they don't understand it."

Her voice softened to almost a whisper.

"And not understanding the person that we love is the worst feeling ever."


	49. Chapter 48: Martyrdom and Mortality

Chapter 48: Martyrdom and Mortality  


_"Have you any idea...what that **thing** is?"_

The icy wind howled like an angry wolf, sending a thin layer of frost over the already rock-hard chunks of ice.

_"Remember...back when I was a kid, when you said we'd be best friends no matter what?"_

The full moon floated in the otherwise ebony sky, casting a haunting silver light over the frozen wasteland. The fresh snow glittered under the moonbeams. Anyone present would've been overwelmed by the cold beauty.

_"I'm teaching you what it's like to lose a loved one...that's what pain is."_

However, the only person around wasn't looking at the horizon. He was sitting, hunched over, on the edge of a snowy cliff.

_"Not understanding the person that we love is the worst feeling ever."_

It was a young boy, maybe sixteen or seventeen, with skin the color of milk and spiky, silvery-white hair. Despite his light wardrobe - a simple blue hoodie and deerskin trousers - the boy wasn't even shivering despite the climate being 200 degrees below zero. For any living human, being out here for too long - especially without the proper provisions and clothing - meant certain death.

But Jack Frost didn't mind the inclemency surrounding him. He quite liked it. It made the coldness inside of him easier to cope with.

It convinced him that the frosted tears on his face weren't really there.

Tooth's words had struck him deep, and they'd embedded themselves in his non-beating heart like a chip of ice.  
He wanted to tell himself that it was tummyrot. He didn't **_love_** Melinda Black. He could never love a monster like her. Because of her, everything had been unravelling. Jamie and Sophie were in an orphanage, Molly was dead, and over half his comrades were in the infirmary. Not only that, but the guardians had lost over half of their believers, and it took all of their efforts to keep those children still believing. They had to work harder than they ever had, and each day was a struggle to survive.  
No. Jack didn't love Melinda. Not at all.

But Lucy...

Jack felt a sharp pain in his chest. For a moment, he thought that a piece of ice had stabbed him, but when he slammed a clammy hand over his heart, there was nothing there. But the pain still burned like a low, blue flame. Jack cringed and lowered his head.  
Whenever he heard that name, he couldn't think of the heartless monster who'd caused him so much pain. He still thought of the book-loving little girl he'd known so long ago. When he heard that name, he saw the smiling teenager who'd consoled him and cheered him up, not the cloaked murderer who'd decapitated his friend and turned Sophie and Jamie into orphans.

Only a month ago, he couldn't even conjure up the girl's face. Now, he could replay every moment they'd spent together in perfect detail, from the moment he met her to that awful moment when her skull-mask flew off.  
Every conversation.  
Every snowball fight.  
Every shriek of laughter.

Jack understood now, why he'd forgotten her to begin with. He'd been the one to kill Lucy's parents, even if it'd been a total accident. The guilt, combined with the girl's disappearance, had been too much for him to bear. In the end, it'd been easier to just sweep the girl under the rug and act like he'd never met her.

_'I thought I'd forgotten her,'_ Jack thought to himself. _'But really...I **made** myself forget.'_

He looked up at the crepuscular sky, where the moon hovered above him. Narrowing his eyes, he looked back down. He didn't want to see the face of the being who'd turned him into..._this._ He didn't want to look at the one who'd given him the power that killed Lucy's parents.

_'And now...'_

An image flashed before his eyes: Lucy smiling at him comfortingly, her hand on his shoulder.

Then, he saw her high in the air, wearing The Sweet Serpent's cloak.

The person he wanted to protect. The person he wanted to kill.

They were one and the same.

Jack felt his heart lurch painfully. He covered his face with his hands as sobs escaped him with every torn breath. Only one word found its way out.

"Lucy..."

* * *

The house outside of Burgess stood alone amongst the woods, eerily silent. Even if there was nothing wrong with it from the outside, people still got a haunting feeling whenever they passed by. Even if they didn't know that the previous residents had been wiped out, they still felt like there was something very, very wrong with that place.  
The house was stained. Tainted by the dark deeds that had been committed there.

The Night Mares, unseen by anyone, stood like guard dogs outside the fence. They lay on the brilliant snow, which made their inky coats look even darker; they may have seemed relaxed, but whenever someone walked by, the Night Mares' eyes glittered with malice. If Pitch hadn't ordered them to not kill anyone, the snow would've been drenched in sweet, crimson blood.

Upstairs, a smaller Night Mare sat at the foot of the girl's bed. It was curled up like a dog, its eyes closed. Then, unexpectedly, its eyes snapped open. It looked up at her, tilting its head curiously.

Melinda, still fast asleep, curled up in an even tighter ball. Her face crumpled, like something deep within her had broken and begun to bleed. Subconsciously, she began to stroke the bracelet on her wrist she'd received so long ago.

Hot, salty tears ran down her face.

"Jack..."

* * *

Hours later, Melinda was pulled out of her slumber by a familiar voice.

"Hey, sleepyhead?"

Melinda groaned quietly, "Hmm?"

"...It's time."

Melinda's eyes slowly opened, like the rising sun. They blinked tiredly, then darted to meet Pitch's. His eyes, golden like hers, glowed with a turmoil of emotions. Some of it was excitement, but some of it was...fear? Melinda felt a rush of confusion. Why was her mentor frightened? He'd explained the procedure to her: he would infect her blood with nightmare sand, which would activate after he 'killed' her. She would be dead for a day at most before rising up.

Then, it would be done.

Lucy Rivera will offically be dead, and Melinda Black will, indeed, be born.

She nodded, a small smile on her face. Pitch returned her simper and held his gloved hand out to her. She accepted it, and he lifted her out of bed as easily as you could pick up a teacup. The girl brushed off her cloak, trying not to look at the sticky blood that appeared on her fingers. The blood of her victims, which strongly contrasted her gray skin. Trying not to be sick, Melinda swallowed and looked away. Tucking some hair behind her ear, she asked, "Dad...can I ask you something?"

Pitch looked surprised, but he nodded, "Yes. What is it?"

"Why do I..." She gestured to herself, "Look like this?"

Pitch understood instantly. "You mean your skin and eyes?"

Melinda nodded.

"Your power is spiralling out of control." He explained, "The darkness has consumed you, just as it consumed me long ago. But you are still a human, so your body is trying to fight the effects. That's why your energy was so low, and you were sleeping so much. That is also why your powers unintentionally wrecked the Realm. The amount of power also affected your appearance."

Melinda nodded again, "And once I become an immortal...I'll be in control?"

"Yes." Pitch confirmed. "It will be much easier to control your power."

Melinda smiled sadly, "Okay."

Pitch tried to shut out the tiny voice in his mind (_"What if she **doesn't** rise up? You'll have killed her!"_) and squeezed her hand, "Now, then. Please wash up and dress nicely. You have to look beautiful for your funeral."

Melinda's heart fluttered like a hummingbird's, but she nodded, "Alright." Pitch opened his mouth to say something, then thought better of it and left her room.

He closed the door behind him and leaned against it, his face in his hands. The Boogeyman felt awful for lying to Melinda when she trusted him so much, but he couldn't think of doing differently.

He hadn't told her the whole truth. He hadn't mentioned that there was a chance, however slight, that she might not come back to life. In fact, now that the Nightmare King really thought about it, there was a good chance that Melinda would stay dead. No one else in her family - not her parents, uncle, or aunt - had risen, so it seemed unlikely that she would.

_'No.'_ He thought to himself sternly, _'You mustn't allow yourself to think like that. Melinda **will** rise up. She has to.'_

He sighed quietly and rubbed his face. If she didn't ressurect, he'll have killed the first human in centuries to care about him and treat him like a sentient being.

He would never forgive himself if that happened.

* * *

The ceremony occured once the sun went down. The Night Mares neighed shrilly as their two masters headed for the forest. Tonight was a new moon, so Tsar would be unable to see - much less mess with - the ritual.

If Tsar could see what was occuring, Pitch was certain that Tsar would keep Melinda dead, or at least leave her buried alive should she reawaken.

Keeping his expression neautral despite these grim thoughts took Herculean effort on Pitch's part. To distract himself, he glanced at his daughter, who moved with such grace she looked like she was floating. She'd scrubbed away every last bloodstain, and her skin was the gray of fresh ashes. Her russet hair, washed and perfumed, had been braided behind her back. Her fringe had been neatly combed over the right side of her face to hide her blind eye. She was wearing a knee-long, sleeveless dress of black silk. Her arms were exposed, and Pitch winced at the number of scars and stitches on her skin.

His anger boiled within him like lava.

He had Molly McFadden to thank for Melinda's pain. If Melinda hadn't chopped the girl's head off, Pitch would've done so with great pleasure.

Finally, they arrived to a clearing. It was quite a distance from the house, so there was a slim chance that anyone would walk in on them.

Perfect.

He cleared his throat and turned to Melinda, "Are you ready, dear?"

He actually saw the girl hesitate. She paused, then glanced at her wrist. Pitch followed her eyes and saw a bracelet hugging her wrist. It appeared to be made out of ice, with several glittering charms attached to it.

He was about to ask her about it when Melinda nodded, "Yes."

Pitch suppressed the urge to sigh in relief. So, she'd chosen him in the end. Keeping his expression placid, he held out his hand. Melinda placed her hand - the one without the bracelet, Pitch noticed - and watched as her father tickled her palm with her thumb, just like when she was a child. They shared a nervous grin before Pitch held out a small knife.

"It only hurts for a moment." He said softly. Melinda chewed on her lip, but she nodded. Feeling stones weigh his dead heart down, Pitch dug the knife into the soft skin. He dragged it down, and blood trickled down Melinda's hand like rich wine. Pitch then snapped his fingers, and black sand floated out of his robes and entered Melinda's cut. The moment the sand entered, the cut sealed up.

As Pitch watched, Melinda's veins - which had previously been a rather dark red - darkened to black, just like his. He knew from experience that it was painful, like someone had poured frozen water into his veins. But Melinda stood rigid, biting her lip to contain her shouts.

The first stage was done. Now, for the risky part.

Pitch's hands found Melinda's throat. Even through the gloves, he could feel her pulse working on overload. He cleared his throat and looked right into her eye, "See you in a day, then?"

Melinda smiled, "You bet."

Pitch nodded and, quick as lightning, snapped her neck. The noise whipped the air like a gunshot. It was quick and painless.  
Just in case.

Melinda went limp in his arms, and Black Ice caught her. The Fearling closed the girl's eyes and, with a quick glance at his master, carried the girl to the coffin he'd prepared. It was the perfect fit for her, with silky purple cushions inside and small bouquets of irises, her favorite flower. Wordlessly, he gently lowered the girl into the casket. He placed a cushion behind her head and crossed her arms across her chest. Then, he picked up the lid.

He stole a look at Pitch, silently asking for permission.

The Boogeyman nodded, "Go on."

Black Ice did as he was told, placing the lid on the box. Then, taking out a hammer and nails, hammered the lid shut. "That's just in case." He explained when he saw Pitch's tightening fists. "I'll be here all night and all day, so when she rises, I'll know."

Pitch nodded curtly. "Alright."

Black Ice bit his tongue as he picked up the crate and lowered it in the hole he'd dug up earlier. Pitch didn't look as the Fearling tossed shovelful after shovelful of rich earth on the coffin.

Once he finished, Black Ice sighed and wiped his brow. "Okay, there's nothing left to do but wait. It should take, at the very most, 24 hours."

Pitch nodded. He hoped that it would take less. He, for example, had become Pitch Black moments after the Fearlings had taken over him, killing him. He hoped that Melinda would be the same.

He couldn't stand thinking of her underground, in a coffin. He didn't want to think that she might stay there.

* * *

For the entire night and the following day, Black Ice stood near Melinda's spot. He'd marked it with a pile of hemlock. When the sun rose, he hid in the trees, but he never once looked away from the pile of venin plants. Hour after hour passed, and he didn't hear any activity going on beneath the surface.

As much as he didn't want to admit it, Black Ice lost a kernel of hope with each passing hour.

An entire day passed and nothing happened. Then, the sun rose again, and still the girl didn't rise. When the sun set on the second day, Black Ice's paitence wore thin. He hopped out of the tree he'd been sitting in and marched to the gravesite. He got on his knees, pushing the pile of plants away, and sniffed the earth. Like some insects, he was very sensitive to the smell of decomposition. He was sensitive with all smells, really, but decay was especially strong to him.

He took a deep breath...and his face fell.

In that moment, Pitch stepped out from the shadows. His face was as still as a pond's surface, but when Black Ice looked at his master, he could see the question hidden behind his eyes.

His own brimming with tears, the boy shook his head.


	50. Chapter 49: Hunger

Chapter 49: Hunger  


The forest was silent as the cold wind caressed the trees, sending leaves flying off their branches. Not too far from the center of the forest was a construction site, busily working to construct a road. They were working at breakneck speed, and soon, they will reach this soundless place.

The only thing that rendered this small clearing different from others was a small bouquet of flowers in the center. They were already wilting, looking less beautiful than when they had been placed there two days before.

Underneath the flowers, nearly seven feet below the surface, a coffin lay. It was built to accommodate a teenager rather than an adult, and the polished wood was black as a shark's eye.  
Inside it, a girl lay with her arms crossed across her chest. Her wavy, russet hair had been neatly combed and cascaded in gentle waves to her waist. Robed in a sleeveless, knee-long dress the color of charcoal, she looked like a doll of ashes. She lay on her bed of irises, blissfully asleep.

Until, suddenly, her eyelids fluttered. Then, very slowly, her eyes opened. They were a deep, glowing topaz, glittering like polished gold. The girl's eyebrows knitted together as her eyes darted left and right.

What was going on? Why was she in such a closed space? Why was it so dark? Where was Father?

That's when it sunk in.

Panic swallowed the girl like a frozen smothering cloth, blocking out any rational thought from her brain. Only one word flashed in her mind:

_Live_

The girl's eyes widened to the size of papayas. Tears trickled down her face as she reached up and started clawing at the wooden surface above her. Her fingernails, now long and sharp, scratched through the wood in a desperate attempt for freedom. Rapid, shallow pants quickly transformed into screams.

* * *

Mechanical screeches flew through the air like birds of ice. Chorused men's shouts joined them; some were yelled orders to hurry up, while others were groans and voiced desires that the job at hand could complete itself. A crane the color of old cheese towered over the twenty-three men like some great, iron-toothed beast. Despite it being three o'clock in the morning, the site was as busy as it had been during the past two days.  
Why? Because the mayor of Burgess had requested a new road leading to Harrisburg, Pennsylvania's capital. None of the workers wanted to build it, of course, but they all knew that it was necessary. If this road was built, then the town's trading would skyrocket. It went straight through the woods, so it would save drivers twenty minutes' worth of driving.

Right now, the workers were in the process of clearing the path in the center of the forest. Judging by the thick wildlife, nobody had been through here in decades, maybe longer. After the trees were sawed down, the earth was dug in order to make room for the cement. Right now, despite the crane dumping ton after ton of damp, worm-infested soil aside, several workers had to dig as well.

"Man, this is bullshit!" One worker groaned as he flung a shovelful of dirt over his shoulder. "If the mayor had to do this all day and all night, I don't think he'd be so keen on having this road built."  
One of his friends sighed, "What can you do? Work is work."

The first man soughed, "Yeah, but it's still-" He trailed off when the end of his shovel hit something hard. He stopped, absorbing what had just occured.  
"What the...?" He hit the thing again.

_Thump!_

He and his friend shared a wide-eyed look before turning to their comrades. "Hey!" The first man shouted, "I hit something!"  
Immediately, interest buzzed through the air like static. Within seconds, all of the workers huddled around the first man, who dug up his discovery with new-found strength. Finally, after a few minutes of relentlessly digging, he unearthed the object.  
His face lost all traces of color. "Oh my God."

Indeed, he was hovering over a coffin.

"Sweet Jesus!" He jumped back, as though he'd been burned. Everyone backed away, their eyes wide. Even though they all knew what caskets looked like - and had certainly seen a few at funerals and in movies - everyone backed away from the mud-soaked box.

Until they heard noises coming from inside of it. Now that everyone - including the crane - was quiet, the racket came through clear as crystal.

High-pitched squealing noises, like nails against a chalkboard, shriveled up the air around the coffin. Even through the constant scratching noises, everybody heard the desperate screaming coming from the casket:

"**_HELP! SOMEBODY, PLEASE! HELP ME!_**"

The voice was already wheezing.

Whoever was inside was already running out of air.

The chief turned sharply to his men, "Quick! Open that coffin! Somebody's dying in there!"

"Yessir!" A man appeared with a crowbar. Not wasting any time, he dug the tool under the lid and pried it open, tearing away the nails.

The second the lid opened, a horrible, sickeningly-sweet odor flooded the air.

The stench of death.

Everyone wheezed and hacked; the chief held a dirty napkin to his nose as he waved his hand, "Close it! Close it!"

The man was only too glad to comply. Just as he was lowering the lid, a gray hand shot out from the coffin's depths and clutched the side of the lid, keeping it from closing. Bloody fingertips sunk into the wood.

Everyone stood where they were, paralyzed with fear.

Fear. _Fear._ **_Fear._**

To anyone else, it was an unpleasant emotion. A poison, if you will. Something that took over your every thought and turned even the smallest shadow into potential danger.

But right now, to the girl in the coffin, it was food. Something to nourish her, and in that moment, the girl had never needed it more. Her entire body screamed for sustenance, and she was going to get it.

"I'm so sorry." She whispered, though her voice echoed through the forest like a crow's cry. "But you have no idea how _hungry_ I am."

A pair of eyes glowed like candles in the darkness of the coffin.

The girl grinned, revealing a mouth full of dagger-like teeth.

"**_Kssh._**"

Black sand poured out like the waters of a great flood, overtaking anyone within its range.

* * *

Jamie Bennett stroked the torn photograph, trying to contain his tears as he did so. It was the picture he'd been carrying around for what felt like forever: of his younger self, Jack, and a younger, more innocent Lucy.

Lucy. The one who had joined forces with the enemy. The one who, indirectly, had ruined his life. She was the reason Sophie had nightmares every night. She was the reason he kept expecting someone to reach out and stab him to death.

And the one who'd broken Jack's heart.

...No. This wasn't the girl he'd come to befriend. There had to be a reason.

"Lu..." He caressed the smiling, short-haired girl in the photo, wondering where she'd gone. "What happened to you?"

"Hey, mopey!" Another orphaned boy shouted from the common room, "C'mon over here! I got somethin' to show ya!"

Jamie soughed sharply. He knew that voice well enough by now, and he was far from pleased at hearing it.

_'No wonder his parents gave him up.'_ He thought sullenly before raising his voice.

"Sid, for the **_last_** time, I'm not interested in watching _'50 Shades of Gray'_!"

"What the hell?!" Sid snapped, "Seriously, come over! A bunch of guys just got murdered!"

That stopped the brunette in his tracks. He blinked, then turned in his chair. "What?"

"Yeah!" Sid called, "Y'know the construction workers outside of town? They're all dead! All 23 of them!"

Now, Jamie was caught like a fish on a hook. A murder in Burgess? Normally, that was so rare it was almost unheard of, but recently the town had had its share in bloodbaths. First the slaughter of a family just outside the town, and now this? What was going on here?  
Almost without his registering it, he rose from his chair and walked into the common room. The minute he entered, he was greeted by the televised image of something out of a slasher movie.

"Oh my Lord..." His hand flew to his lips. In that moment, he thanked whatever diety existed that Sophie was already asleep. This image would've given her nightmares for the next ten years.

Scattered all across the dark soil were bits of human bodies. A twitching hand here, a fresh skull there, and the ground was soaked in blood. Internal organs stood out against the soil like rubies, and it was positively sickening. Bits of bone glowed softly in the moonlight like pearls.  
But that wasn't what made Jamie's flesh crawl. It wasn't what threatened to make him purge his last meal.  
It was the dug up, opened coffin sitting in the midst of the carnage.

Irises decorated the interior of the box.

Lucy's favorite flower.

"Oh, no..."

Jamie bolted out of the room and raced up the stairs, two steps at a time. He didn't stop until he reached his bedroom, where Sophie still was still sleeping. He needed to lock the windows and make sure that...that **_thing_** didn't come after him and Sophie, too.  
In that moment, all thoughts of there being a reason were cast aside. What mattered right now was, Lucy had butchered 23 men without a second thought. Jamie couldn't bear the thought of her doing the same to Sophie. He knew it seemed cruel, but right now, his sister's safety came first.

He wrenched the door open and stood in the doorway, shell-shocked.

A figure stood over his sleeping sister. The reddish-brown mane was stuck together with blood, which was splattering on the floorboards in tiny droplets. Gray, stitched arms were visible in the dim light, and the legs were in no better shape. Jamie watched in paralyzed terror as the person who'd once been his friend hovered over his sister, his family, the only one he had left.

Her bloody, clawed hand gently stroked the sleeping girl's cheek.

Jamie only saw the girl's back. He didn't hear her small, hiccupped sobs. He couldn't see the tears cascading down the girl's cheeks, leaving clean streaks.

"HEY!" He shouted, his own voice sounding threatening. Melinda whipped around to face her old friend, and that's when it hit home. Time stood still as the girl turned around, revealing what she had become.

Melinda's face, once so bright and lively, was similar to a corpse's. The skin, once a rich olive tone, had faded to a dull, lifeless gray. The girl's large eyes were sunken, and her face was dripping with blood.

Her eyes were no longer that warm, inviting chestnut.

They were an icy gold. Just like Pitch's.

This wasn't his friend anymore.

Melinda's glassy eyes teared up even more at the sight of him. "Jamie..."

"GET OUT!" Jamie bellowed, making Sophie wake with a start. Melinda gasped softly and jumped on the windowsill. She held a surrendering hand up, "Jamie, please, I'm not here to-"

"I said, GET OUT!" Jamie shoved Melinda outside. The girl fell backwards on the roof, hitting the rusting tiles with a groan. She looked at him with wide eyes. Jamie spoke before she could try to trick him. "Get the hell outta here! If I ever see you near Sophie again, I'll tear you apart!"

"Jamie, please, listen!" Melinda shakily got to her feet. "I-I didn't mean to kill those guys. Honest! I...I was just so **_hungry_**." She hugged herself and shivered, allowing her damp hair to hide her face. "It was horrible when I was in that coffin...my entire body was on fire...my stomach was digesting _itself_, and I was getting so weak...I-I didn't have any air..." She looked up tearfully, "I just...I couldn't...I couldn't stop myself."

Jamie's expression softened, but only slightly. She didn't look like the one who'd torn through twenty-three men; she looked like a scared little girl. Her shaky voice revealed that she wasn't lying. She really _had_ been to the point of starvation. Pitch needed fear to survive; it sustained him the way food, drink, and air nourished humans. Jamie found himself thinking, _'Is she a bad person because she didn't die of hunger?'_  
But still...he couldn't forget that this wasn't his friend anymore. She was something else now. She wasn't like Jack Frost, who could live forever without any aid. She couldn't hang out with him like Jack - or any of the other guardians - could, not anymore. She needed fear to stay alive, and in this case, she'd pushed her victims to the brink of death to recieve enough fear to ratify her.

She'd done this to herself. She'd chosen this path.

Jamie sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Look, just...don't come here anymore. 'Kay?"

Melinda looked a bit relieved at the understanding in her friend's eyes. She nodded and turned around to leave. Just as Jamie was closing the window, though, the girl's voice floated back to him.

"It's alright if you've come to hate me." She said, not turning around, "I...also..." She covered her face with her hand and leaped into the night air. Nightmare sand billowed out of her dress and formed into two wings on her back. Even as she flew off, her last words hung in the darkness like a second, mournful moon.

"...I hate me, too."

* * *

Pitch was more confused than he'd been in years. He'd been so certain that his time had come. After the death of his dear apprentice, he'd simply stopped fighting the effects the lack of believers had on him. Without his struggling to survive the day, the cracks had become craters in his skin. His entire right leg had crumbled away, and his voice had become as dry as wind blowing through a skull.

He'd been 100% sure that he would die.

Instead, he awoke at dusk to find his body in much, much better shape than it had in a long while. His leg was back, good as new. The giant holes in his skin had turned to small, vein-like cracks. His hair, which had become gray and lessened, was as glossy and thick as it had been in his former days.

All in all, Pitch Black felt better than he had in years.

But _why?_ Had the moon given him another chance?

He rose from his bed and pushed the dusty curtains aside. The moon hung in the sky, painting the world silver.

"What are you up to now, Tsar?" Pitch hissed, "Why won't you honor a dying man's wish and let him go to Hell in peace?"

The moon snickered. It sounded like dry leaves blowing across concrete. _'Go to Hell in peace? That's something of a contradiction, is it not?'_

"I don't expect to go to Heaven, if that is what you mean." Pitch snapped, "But don't try to avoid my question: after years of neglecting me, of sweeping me under the rug like filth, why did you oh so **_generously_** decide to grant me more time?" Bitterness coiled around every word like a vine of hemlock.

The moon sighed. _'I did nothing of the sort, Boogeyman. You have your daughter to thank for that.'_

"Don't mock me!" The shadows hissed and curled at Pitch's feet like angry cobras. "Melinda died 3 days ago! She was supposed to rise and become a creature of the night like me, but she...she died!" He cleared his throat to hide the fact that his voice had cracked, "You interfered again, didn't you?! You just had to take away my family again, didn't you?!"

_'If I recall correctly,'_ The moon answered in a hard voice, _'**You** were the one who killed your family members in an attempt to bring them with you. I'm not the one who slit their throats. I merely punished you for what you did.'_

Pitch punched the wall, leaving a dent the size of a watermelon in the concrete. "Don't try to decieve me, Tsar! Melinda is dead!"

The moon paused. 'Are you sure about that?'

Tap, tap, tap.

Pitch froze. Just for a moment, his cold dead heart pulsed. Could it be...? Or what it another of MiM's tricks?

As the Boogeyman retreated from the window, the moon whispered. 'By the way...'

Pitch glanced up, his eyes as cold as gems.

'Try not to stay here too long. Sooner or later, the guardians will come. And they will not simply send you away this time.'

Pitch snorted, "Thank you for the warning, Tsar. I will most definitely keep it in mind." He dragged the curtain over the filthy glass, plunging the room in darkness. Then, he made his way towards the tapping noise.

The front porch?

Pitch snapped his fingers, and his black scythe appeared in his hands. Holding it behind his back, he unlocked the door and peered outside.

A chill shuddered through his body.

Melinda stood in front of the porch, still clothed in her funeral dress. She was coated in mud and blood, and her cheeks were streaked in tears. Her bloodshot eyes were glowing with a deep, lost sensation Pitch remembered seeing in himself.

"Da...ddy." She called, her voice croaky.

Pitch's own eyes filled with tears, but he refused to let them overtake him. Blinking them away, he dropped his scythe and raced out of the house. He wrapped his arms around the girl as though letting go meant death.

"You're really here..." He whispered, stroking her hair. He could hardly believe it. He finally had what he wanted: a daughter to cherish, forever! Someone who would stay young and be with him, who wouldn't grow old and fade away.

Finally, his wish had been granted.

He was so caught up in his thoughts, he didn't realize that the girl was trembling worse than a leaf.

"I..." She whimpered, "I killed those men..." She covered her face with her hands. "I didn't want to, really! I just...I couldn't control myself. It was like my body was acting on its own!"

Pitch pulled away and pried the girl's hands off of her face. She refused to look at him, completely ashamed at what she'd done.

"Dear, I understand. Truly, I do." He spoke honestly, "It is like that for every newborn of our species. You require fear to keep you alive, and since you'd been in there for three days, your body needed it more than ever. You had to do it, or else you would've died."

"But...but..." Melinda swallowed audibly, "_You_ don't kill people."

"No, I don't." Pitch shook his head, keeping his hands on her shoulders. "But when I first became the Boogeyman, I did. Just for fun."

Melinda blanched, and her lips parted in horror.

"I butchere people like cattle just to hear them scream. It wasn't until later that I realized what a monster I was becoming. Yes, I need fear to survive, just as you do now. But I don't need to kill people to obtain it. Neither do you, but if you leave your hunger unattended for too long..." He shook his head, "It drives you mad, if only for a little while. It becomes a hunger so maddening, so consuming, nobody outside of our kind could ever truly comprehend it." Pitch placed a finger under Melinda's chin, forcing her to look at him.

Melinda nodded and wiped her eyes again, and this time, she managed a shadow of a smile.

Pitch smiled back; he couldn't help feeling that this was the beginning of something new.

The first day of their time as a family, for eternity.

"Now, come inside. Let's get you cleaned up."


	51. Chapter 50: Of Monsters and Men

Chapter 50: Of Monsters and Men  


"**_North!_**"

The stocky Russian looked up from the teddy bear he'd been repairing, his bright blue eyes alert. He'd know that voice anywhere: it was young, forever stuck between manhood and childhood.  
His eyes pinpointed its source: there, on one of the stainglass windows, was a hooded, scrawny shadow welding an all-too-familiar staff.  
Jack Frost. He'd abruptly left the Pole a few days ago and hadn't shown his face to anyone. He'd even hidden from the Man in the Moon.  
He wouldn't be breaking that odd habit if something serious hadn't occurred.

North rose from his stool, his eyes focused on the dark figure pounding a fist against the colored glass, "North! Let me in! It's urgent!"  
Several of his yetis stopped working and looked up, their animal-like eyes swimming with curiosity. But with a sharp command in Russian, North got them back on schedule. With unsure mutterings and exchanged glances, the great hairy beings did as they were told. Satisfied, North turned to the window and undid the latch. He'd barely pulled his hand away when the window burst open, clanking against the wall. The yetis stopped working and took cover as a tornado of ice and snow spiralled inside.  
Jack collapsed on the stone floor, rolling as he did so. North quickly slammed the window shut, redoing the latch. He took a good look at winter sprite as he did so, and he tried not to let his concern show on his face. The boy's skin had an almost gray tint to it, like ashy snow. His hair was wilder than ever, and if North didn't know any better he'd say that the boy had lost some much-needed weight. When Jack looked up, his icy-blue eyes looked even paler by the dark crescents under them.

All in all, the boy had taken the SSR (short for 'Sweet Serpent Revelation', a name coined by Tooth to avoid rubbing salt in the boy's wounds) harder than anyone else.

North shook his head to clear it as he got right to business. "Jack, vhat happened?"

Jack, who'd been wheezing and panting, forced himself into a sitting position on the floor. He'd clearly flown full speed to get here as soon as possible. "It's Jamie. I went to visit him today at school. You know, just for...a distraction. But he said he saw something. Well...some_one_." He swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing uneasily in his thin throat. "Lu...I mean, Melinda. She rose up."  
North's eyebrows flew up. He hadn't anticipated something like this. Had Pitch really gone to such a measure? Apparently so, because now, the spirit world had a new resident.

But it wasn't a happy occasion. At all.

Jack continued, his face turning green in the process. "She butchered an entire team of construction workers last night."

"Vhat?!" North's shout made the yetis nearly jump out of their seats. Even Jack winced, as though the big man's word had whipped him. North's face quickly turned as red as a holly berry. He started ranting, "Zat eez unacceptable! I can somewhat accept she Pitch's ward, but she cannot kill! Eet eez against our laws! Zomething must be done!"

"Yeah, I agree." Smooth as a leopard, Jack jumped to his feet. "That's why I came. I don't care that Melinda did it just because she was 'hungry'. Something needs to be done here." He ran a hand through his tousled hair, "North, you know more about this kinda thing than me. What should we do?"

North sighed, and just for a moment, Jack was reminded how old his father-figure actually was. The warm light from the fire made the shadows on the old man's face dance, and Jack could see wrinkles and worry lines he'd never taken notice of before.

After a silence that seemed to stretch into infinity, North spoke. The anger was gone; only genuine sorrow remained. "Jack...Melinda has proven to be dangerous. Eef she eez like zis now, vhen she just rose up, imagine vhat she vill be like een a year. Or a decade. Or a century. No," He shook his head, "Ve must stop her."

Jack's heart felt like it'd been poked with a white-hot prong, but he kept his face neutral. "When?"

North thought a moment. "Tomorrow. Eet vill be full moon. Manny vill guide us. Ve shall attack vhen moon reaches center of sky."

Jack nodded, his movements cold and indifferent. "I'll let the others know." Swallowing hard, he reopened the window and flew out like a comet. North sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. The image of ten-year-old Lucy Rivera sailed in front of his eyes like a black, cursed sail. That girl...she'd been one of his favorites. She'd been so sweet, so obedient, so intelligent...

But in the end, she'd turned into something worse than Pitch.

The guardian of wonder was so preoccupied with his grim thoughts, he did not see the second shadowy figure lurking behind the stained glass. Even the yetis failed to make it out. It was very similar to Jack Frost: hooded, holding a staff, and lanky.

Tightening its grip on its staff, the figure transformed into black sand and flew away.

* * *

It was the middle of the day in Burgess. While everyone went about their own lives, the house on the outskirts of the town remained secluded. If anyone had gone near it, they would have noted some unusual changes. At first, the thick curtains had always been drawn except when the sun set. Now, especially with the bright, wintry sun, all the windows had been boarded up. To anyone else, the house would've seemed uninhabitable.  
But they were wrong. Two beings lived there, lurking in the shadows like phantoms of the past. Now, they were seated in the center of the living room, surrounded by oil lamps and candles.

Pitch Black straightened, his arms crossed across his chest. "Alright, Melinda. Read the first sentence out loud." He spoke in a firm, professional voice.

"Okay..." The girl moved closer to an oil lamp for better light. The novel's dry, torn-edged pages were slightly illuminated, but any human would still be unable to read it. Melinda, however, had no such problem. While her eyes handled the dark better than before, it took some getting used to. With the slightly improved lighting, she was able to read easily:"_Monstrum aut prodigium homo est homo?_" Melinda read, pacing herself to avoid making mistakes.

Pitch smiled, dropping the professor façade. "Very good. What does it mean?"

"It means..." Melinda twirled a russet lock around her stitched finger, thinking. Her movements didn't stop when she answered, "_Is the man a monster or is the monster a man?_"

Pitch gave her a small clap, "Good. I see all those lessons have paid off."

Melinda giggled, clearly happy with herself. Her golden eyes caught the candles' glow; the flames danced wildly in those topaz orbs. Orbs just like _his._ Pitch allowed himself a warm smile before getting back to the lesson. "What do you think of this saying?"

The laughter dissipated like smoke. Melinda scratched her head, uncertainty molded into her features. After a long, silent moment, she nodded to herself and met her father's gaze. "I think...there's a deep, hidden commonality between humans and the things they fear."  
Pitch's eyes gleamed. "Go on. Elaborate."  
Melinda nodded, "People are afraid of things they don't understand. You, for example. They think you're just a freak who's afraid of the sun, but they don't understand that, deep down, you're just like them." Melinda cracked a smile, remembering her cousin Marco, "In fact, you're better than a good lot of them." Pitch smiled softly, "Many spirits would deem you mad for saying such things."

Melinda shrugged, "It's true. Even though you're a 'monster' per say, you're capable of being very much like a man. The same is true for men: they normally act relatively decently, and many of them are kind. But if, say, they're forced into any difficult situation, they start to...fall back on some rooted, primitive instinct. They'd do anything to keep themselves alive or get what they want, and at some point, they're so blinded they turn into 'monsters' themselves." She tucked some hair behind her ears, slightly panting from her speech.

Pitch looked at his daughter for a very long moment, his expression hidden by the shadows. For a moment, Melinda thought that she'd displeased him and got ready to apologize. Instead, the Boogeyman spoke, "I agree. One hundred percent."

Melinda lit up, "Really?"

"Yes." Pitch reached out and stroked the girl's cheek. Her skin was no longer warm. It was cold...skin of a body without heat. He let his hand drop, trying not block out the voice in his head (_'I did this to her'_). "That is why people say that it takes a man to kill a monster: when fighting monsters, be careful not to become one yourself."

Melinda hesitated, "Do you think...I'm a monster?"

Pitch's eyes widened, "Melinda-"

_WOOOSH!_ Black sand swooped in from the shadows. Black Ice, dripping with snow, rushed in. "Master! Young Mistress!"

Pitch's father-like persona evaporated. His face hardened as he regarded his servant. "What is it, Black Ice?"

The Fearling paused before answering, "...The guardians know about the princess."

Melinda stilled, fear paralyzing her. The...the guardians knew?! How?! They shouldn't even know she'd died. How did...?

Melinda's surprise quickly melted into grim understanding.

Jamie.

Pitch looked surprised, too. But he quickly stood up, "Tell me everything. Now."

Black Ice obeyed, "Jack Frost went to visit the Bennett brat yesterday; the Bennett boy told him about Young Mistress, so the sprite went straight to St. Nickolas. After that, he let the other guardians know. They're coming here tomorrow, when the moon reaches the center of the sky. To kill us."

Pitch's face darkened. Even Melinda didn't want to go near him now. He looked silent but deadly, like a coiled viper.

"What must we do?" Black Ice asked, "Personally, I think we should leave."

"We cannot." Came the cool reply. "Do you really think we can leave now? The sun's up, and even if we left at twilight, the moon would see us and report to the guardians. We are as trapped as rats."

Melinda listened to her father, an unreadable expression on her heart-shaped face.

Black Ice closed his eyes, already admitting defeat. "Yeah, you're right."

Pitch raised his chin, "For now, eliminate North." He made a slicing motion with his dark hand, "Sever the head of the snake and the body will flail uselessly about. After that, we can wait for the others to come and kill them. Melinda will help you. Tell the Night Mares that go to aim for the jugular."

Black Ice's face was still with intimidation, but he nodded. "Understood." With that, he disappeared into the shadows.

Melinda's eyes brimmed with tears. _'Jack...'_ She thought to herself, _'In the end, one of us is going to kill the other.'_

"Melinda." Pitch's voice softened. The girl froze and quickly wiped her eyes. Pitch turned around to see his daughter smiling sadly. "I'll be ready." She assured him, "But first...there's something I need to do."

Pitch, again, looked surprised. But he nodded.

The candles burned out, surrendering the room to the darkness.

* * *

You guys decide: is Melinda a monster? Answer in your review please!


	52. Chapter 51: Dance of Despair

Chapter 51: Dance of Despair  


The Pole was gloomier than it had ever been as the guardians prepared for battle. Sandman, with a doubtful look on his round face, tied his sand-whips around his chubby waist. He slipped on a protective shield on his chest and back, to avoid being shot a second time.  
Bunnymund packed extra boomerangs and explosives in his satchel, and he put on a wooden helmet to protect his head. He also packed some healing herbs in his belt if someone was critically wounded.  
Tooth, who had rarely looked so uneasy, put on the cuffs Lucy had made for her. Then, she put on a cloak that she wore in her former days; she knew from experience that it would protect her from being stabbed or shot, to a certain extent.  
North, with his fur-lined cloak and twin blades, looked as menacing as a snarling lion. He traded his fur cap with a metal helmet, but other than that, he hardly had to add anything to his outfit.

Jack remained unseen until the very last moment, when everyone was boarding the sleigh. When he finally turned up, everyone could see that he'd taken special care of his armor.  
It was made entirely out of ice, coating every inch of his body like a second, icy, impenetrable skin. Only his head remained unprotected, but everyone felt that there was no need for a helmet. His face looked hard enough to cut through diamonds. Clutching his staff, which radiated an unforgivable chill, Jack wordlessly climbed on the very edge of the sleigh. None of his allies spoke until the sleigh was in the black, starless night. The only illumination came from the full moon, which was very close to the center of the sky. In the moon's milky light, Jack looked like a ghost.

For a few minutes that felt like hours, the guardians remained immobile. If not for their chests rising and falling with every breath, one might have mistaken them for statues. But the silence was terminated when Tooth rose up and handed something to Sandman, then to Bunnymund.  
The Pooka frowned and flipped it over. He looked at the hummingbird-fairy, "Sheila, this is blank paper."  
"I know." Tooth answered sadly as she handed an identical sheet to North. "I think you guys should write out your wills. Because..." The shadows concealed her face, "...This might be your trip to the next world."

The silence that followed was only comparable to a cemetary's. Nobody spoke or moved, shock freezing their limbs. The guardians all took a moment to truly ponder over what they were doing. They were doing what was right: ridding the world of Pitch Black and his apprentice. If they didn't, who knows what more damage would be done? How many people would die? How many more times would Pitch try to rise in power? They knew that if they left those...those **_monsters_** unchecked, they would only cause more unrepairable damage.  
But they hadn't really given thought to the capability of their foes. Pitch Black had thousands of Night Mares at his disposal, and even without his army he had a two-meter-long black scythe that could slice through virtually anything and was spectacularly strong. Even if he'd been weakening, he was still not one to be underestimated.  
And the Sweet Serpent...was perhaps one of the deadliest spirits the guardians had ever come across. With a snap of her fingers, she could create her own armada of snakes made from Nightmare Sand. Even without them, she was a fierce, ruthless opponent. Hell, she'd managed to decapitate Molly without breaking a sweat.

The trance-like censorship was broken by a loud, shredding sound. Everyone turned to see Jack ripping up the paper into a thousand pieces. Once he was done, he tossed the paper's remains into the wind. "I didn't come along to die." He said in a low voice. He glared at his companions, daring them to speak up against him. "I came here to kill the Sweet Serpent!"

Bunnymund developed a sudden interest in his boomerangs. Sandman stared at the moon, as if asking it what was going to happen. North focused on his reindeer, silent as a mime. Tooth looked surprised for a moment, but then she nodded, "I understand."  
Silence fell over the five guardians again. For a while, the only sound was the whistling wind, which sent Jack's snowy hair into wild dances. However, his face remained as cold as stone. He looked so...different from the carefree, happy-go-lucky chap that everybody was used to. It was almost like something had taken residence in the sprite's body.  
Bunnymund finally spoke up, "So, mate...you give any thought to what Tooth said?"

Tooth glanced at the overgrown rabbit, but Sandman and North pretended to not have heard. Jack's eyes were icy-blue slits. "What the hell d'you mean?"

"I mean," Bunnymund looked up, his emerald eyes locking with Jack's, "before ya 'kill' her..." His face softened a fraction, "...won't ya even **_try_** to understand her?"

The silence that followed was unbearable. Jack's face was as white and blank as a sheet of ice. For five breaths, he stared at the Pooka with an unreadable expression. Then, very slowly, he stood up and leapt. He flew ahead of the sleigh, slicing through the air like a bullet.

* * *

The moon was so close to its zenith now, it sent agitation coursing through Melinda's body like electricity. But she continued to scribble in her diary, ignoring the annoying cramps in her hand.

_'So, now you know. That's why I've spent hours writing to you, diary: because I'm not even sure if I'm gonna make it. If luck finally fails me and I die, I at least can die knowing that my memories are stowed away somewhere safe. I know it sounds grim of me, but to be completely honest, I don't think I'm gonna make it. It'll be five against us, and one of them wants me dead._

_Jack...'_

Melinda's golden eyes filled with tears, which spattered on the paper. Taking a shaky breath, she continued to write, _'I have to fight them. There's no way around it. If I don't, they'll kill Dad. And I can't handle that.' _Her hand trembled as she forced herself to write,_ 'I can't **take** it anymore, diary. I can't watch the only person I have left die in front of me. He's all I've got...and I'll do whatever it takes to keep him alive. Even if it means dying.'_  
Melinda stopped. It was like she'd been blind since birth and miraculously given the power to see. She finally realized something that'd been staring her in the face for a while now. Plucking up her courage, she wrote:

_'I think...that's why I rose up when everybody else in my family died. They're all in some afterlife, all together. My aunt, uncle, my parents...I don't really care where my cousin is, but maybe he's with them, too. They're all in some peaceful afterlife that I could never reach. I rose...because I became this. I died long before Pitch snapped my neck._  
_And I think...the reason it took me so long to ressurect...was because...a part of me wanted to **stay** dead. A small part of me, somewhere deep inside, just wanted to give up and rest. Deep down, I didn't really want to come back to life; I just wanted to be with my parents again.'_

Another hot tear crashed down, making the words bleed together.

_'But I can't.'_

She glanced at the sky, and her face darkened. She looked at her diary, and something within her faded. She'd done it; she'd finally reached the end of the page, and there was only one line left.  
Taking a deep breath, Melinda scrawled the last word. The last thing anyone would read should they pick up this ragged, years-old diary.

_'Goodbye.'_

Someone knocked on the door. Melinda barely looked up as a familiar, gangly figure entered the room. Black Ice attempted a smile, but it ended up looking more like a wince. He'd prepared for battle, too. Clad in an armor of black sand, he looked more like a shadow than anything else. He took a look at the moon before meeting Melinda's gold eyes. "It's time, Young Mistress." He held up a pair of clawed gloves, a ripped cloak, and a snake skull. "I hope that, tonight too, you'll paint lots of red paintings."

Lucy Rivera vanished. The Sweet Serpent appeared. The pale, heart-shaped face darkened even further, and those golden eyes turned as dull and lifeless as a doll's. Slowly, smoothly, she rose to her feet. "Even though you're different from Frost, your bad taste just as apparent."

In one graceful movement, the girl slipped on the gloves. The razor-sharp gloves captured the moonlight and gleamed. "Enough," She stated, her voice full of authority, "Let's get to it already."

* * *

In the forest next to Burgess, the night was noiseless. One lone cricket tried to play, but when none of its companions joined it, it fell silent as well. In this frozen wonderland, time seemed to be nonexistent.

Undearneath the surface, however, things were anything but still. Long ago, people had built mines within the town of Burgess in order to scavange minerals. These were in the early days of the settlement, and the mines were abandoned over a century ago.  
But 'abandoned' did not mean 'sealed up'. Occasionally, people explored these earthy veins, just to see where they led and how far they could go. Some teenagers even dared each other to go in, if only for a little while. Some even used these tunnels as shelters in case of terrorist attacks or, God forbid, tornadoes.

Other than that, though, the mines were mostly empty.

But now, the damp walls echoed with sound. Low hissing bounced off the walls like spirals as a small army of serpents slithered across the earth. They were unlike any snake ever seen on Earth: they were as long as full-grown trees, and their scales, while smooth and sleek, were harder than any steel. Their fangs were as long and jagged as daggers. The snakes' bodies were black as midnight, and their eyes glowed like lanterns.

Leading them towards the battlefield was a cloaked figure. It wore a skintight bodysuit with a scale-like pattern, and its clawed boots thundered through the tunnels.  
Underneath the skull-like helmet, the figure's mouth twisted into a vicious grin.

"**_Kssh._**"

* * *

Jack Frost landed on his feet, stealthy as a cat. The cracking ice hardened under the bare soles of his feet. He brushed stray snowflakes from his frozen armor, his face blank.  
His wooden staff was entirely white now, sizzling with the power of winter. Jack smiled bleakly at the sight, almost hugging the stick to his chest. There was no escaping this power now. Whoever was at the wrong end of his staff...wouldn't live to see another day. Jack had never used his power like this, at least not intentionally. He'd always used this long Shepard's stick to make 'snowballs and fun times', and it had always been an instrument of joy.

But things change.

Seasons.

Places.

People.

Jack's teeth clenched together, and his eyes squeezed shut. He stared at his bony, ashen feet, trying not to think about the last time he'd been here. But it was too late. As if acting on its own accord, his mind trailed back to his last time here, eight years ago...

_"I still can't believe we managed to pull it off!" Lucy stated for the fifth time that afternoon. Jack rolled his eyes and lazily waved a hand. The thin ice on his pond curdled until it was thick as cement. "I know. I'm the freakin' genius here, aren't I?"_

_Lucy snorted as she struggled to get her skates on, "Yeah, dream on, Frostbite."_

_A snowball nailed her in the back of the head. "Ow!" She spun around to see Jack standing idly by the pond, his hands in his sweatshirt pockets and whistling a tune._  
_She smirked, "Oh, you are **so** dead!"_  
_"Is that a challenge, Brace Face?" Jack countered, his eyebrow raised._

_"You bet it is!" With her skates still on, Lucy made a quick snowball and threw it at Jack. Two hit her: one in the arm, the other in the chest. A fight raged on; the friends' delighted screams and yells echoed through the evergreen forest as snowballs sailed through the cold air._

Jack punched a random tree, just to let some of the wrath out. Blood trickled from his knuckles and dotted the snow crimson, but he hardly noticed. His eyes were still closed, and he leaned his forehead against the tree trunk. His shoulders shook, "Dammit..."

"Jack!"

The winter spirit whirled around in time to see his teammates rush towards him. If they saw the blood on the snow, they chose to ignore it. Sandman made pictures above his head, an urgent expression on his chubby face.  
Jack frowned, "What's he saying?"

"He's sayin'," Bunnymund piped up darkly, "They're comin'." He held up his boomerangs. "Get ready, ev'rybody."

The guardians pulled out their weapons, every sense alert. For a few tense seconds, the night was peaceful.

Then, the ground ripped open, unleashing a horde of hissing black snakes.

The guardians immediately sprung into action. Explosions were thrown at the snakes, shaking the world and reducing the serpents to cinders. Sandman's whips sliced snakes' heads off, turning them into useless piles of ashes. Tooth flew high out of the serpents' reach before swooping down again. Her wings sliced through the writhing black creatures as though they were butter. North did a fine job as well, and Jack turned every snake that went near him into a black ice sculpture.

But every time one was knocked down, another crawled out of the hole.

Jack got tired after the first twenty snakes. He leaned against a tree as a cold sweat dripped down his temple, panting for breath.

He was so exhausted, he didn't notice a black serpent, slightly smaller than the others, slither towards him. It opened its mouth and sank its teeth into his ankle, the one unprotected part of his body.

Jack screamed like a hundred banshees, making his comrades stop fighting and turn to him, their eyes wide. The pain was greater than anything he'd ever imagined. It was like someone had drilled through his skin and into the bones, setting fire to his blood vessels. His entire leg went numb, and he crashed in the snow.

Tooth screeched, "JACK!"

Bunnymund thought quickly and crushed the skull of the snake he'd been fighting. As he ran towards the fallen boy, a figure appeared from the shadows. Calmly, it walked towards him.

Bunny's eyes widened, "Oh, no..."

A shadow loomed over the white-haired boy. For a second, it simply stared at him. Then, with a feathery touch, it tapped his bleeding ankle. Jack sighed in relief; the pain instantly dissolved, and the wound sealed itself in the blink of an eye. "Thank you..." He pushed himself up to look at his healer...and stopped.

A familiar cape-clad figure crouched before him, smiling. "You're very welcome, Old Man Winter."  
It held a clawed, gloved hand out. Jack stared at it for a long moment before, hesitantly, accepting the hand. He tried not to think about how perfectly their hands fit together, as if they'd been made for each other.

Easily, the figure helped him to his feet, but it didn't let go of his hand. Jack felt tears sting his eyes as he pulled his hand away, "Fuck..." Tears trickled down his cheeks like liquid pearls, "Why, Lucy? Why're you..."

The figure took off its skull helmet.

"...the Sweet Serpent?"

The girl grinned, "**_Kssh._**" She snapped her fingers, and the snakes stopped fighting. Their golden eyes were focused on their mistress, waiting for orders. The guardians were still as well, frightened that the slightest movement might trigger an attack.

Jack stared at his feet, though his body trembled uncontrollably. "Mrs. Bennett...and the kids that don't believe in us anymore...those workers...Molly..." He glared at the girl, a snarl on his face, "_I'll make you pay!_"

"Jack, wait!" Tooth grabbed the boy's arm as he tried to lunge at the girl. "Think about this!" Her violet eyes were desperate as she shouted:

"_Do you really think you can kill Lucy?!_"

"SHUT UP!" Jack tore away from Tooth, avoiding anyone's eyes, "You think I haven't thought of that?! You think I haven't been thinking about it every day?! Every hour...every minute...every second...I..." His voice weakened with each word, and the anger died. "I love Lucy."  
His staff glowed white. "That's why..."

He looked up angrily, tears bathing his pale cheeks, "_I'll be the one to kill her!_"

He waved his staff furiously, and bolts of white energy flew out like eels. They darted towards the Sweet Serpent, who hadn't made a move the whole time. She saw the sizzling, colder-than-death bolts heading towards her...

...and smiled softly.

**_BOOOOOOM!  
_**  
The explosion turned the night into day, transforming every tree into a pillar of frost. Deep gashes incased in ice appeared in the ground, and the guardians had to duck and cover to avoid freezing to death.

Only Jack, doubled over from the effort, remained where he was. Leftover tears were still gathered in the corners of his eyes as he watched, his hand still raised.

The figure he'd fired at was still for a long, painful moment. Then, limp as a rag doll, it fell backwards and rolled down the hill. Jack cringed at the thick trail of black blood it left behind. The figure didn't stop until it reached an old tree trunk, which stopped further descent. Jack took a great leap and was standing in front of the body in an instant. As he stared, he fell to his knees. The other guardians cautiously followed, trying not to look at the black river. Bunnymund, with his long strong legs, was the first to reach the boy.  
He reached a paw out to the boy, unsure of what to say. "Jack..."

The boy whimpered and curled within himself. Then, he threw his head back and wailed. His cries filled the night, drenched in pain and suffering. His shoulders shook as he sobbed over the girl that he used to know. Then, when his voice refused to work any longer, the boy his his face in his heads.  
Bunny, on the verge of tears himself, did the only thing he could think of doing. He placed a paw on Jack's head.

For a few seconds, they stayed like that. Then, a sizzling noise caught the Pooka's attention. Frowning, he searched for its source...and froze in his tracks.

The frozen, mawed legs, rendered blue from the cold, quickly regained their ashy color. Then, the wounds closed at an incredible speed.  
Bunny's eyes widened as they travelled the rest of the body. Before his eyes, the wounds closed. When it finally reached the girl's face, she sat up, her russet hair billowing in the wind.

Her golden eyes, half-closed, bore into Jack's as she grinned, "Kssh." She stood up, tossing away her ruined cape. "Well, that was a very good try." Her feet left the ground. As she floated higher in the sky, her words pelted Jack like iron raindrops, "I'll be waiting, Jokul Frosti...for Round Two."

Then, she transformed into a black snake and disappeared into the night.


	53. Chapter 52: Macabre Memories Part 1

Chapter 52: Macabre Memories Part 1  


The last of the fairies squeaked in agony as the sable ice consumed them, snuffing out their words, breath, and lives. Tooth's mini helpers remained there for a minute, suspended between life and death. Then, with a low chuckle followed by snapping fingers, the ice crumbled away like ancient ruins. The thousands of hummingbird-like fairies collapsed on the ground, dead frozen statues.

Black Ice withdrew himself from the shadows, a smile almost as dark as his armor dancing on his lips. He eyed the dead fairies like they were scattered pennies rather than tiny corpses.

"I _do_ hate fairies." He stated, his voice echoing through Tooth Palace.

"Yes, it was agony keeping them in my home during my initial battle with the guardians." Pitch stepped out, his hands folded in the small of his back.

He now looked almost as youthful as he had in his days as a newly-risen: all of the gray had disappeared from his thick, spiky hair, and he was able to stand to his full height without the assistance of a cane. While his face had a few lines that'd been absent before, he looked infinitely better than the old man he'd been not too long ago.

"So," Black Ice began, his black hair falling into his gold eyes, "Are we really gonna do it?"

"Yes." Pitch nodded, "For a few years, I had followed a relative peace treaty with the guardians, but now I see that it is impossible." A smile appeared on his pale gray face, "They ruined everything for me yet again. It's only fair that I punish them accordingly, isn't it?"  
Without waiting for an answer, Pitch smiled, displaying his razor-like teeth. "If we weaken - but not kill - each and every one of them, they will never bother us again."

Black Ice grinned, "Well, consider Tooth out of the game." He hopped from one foot to another like an antsy child, "Can I go after my other half? Please?"

Pitch's smile disappeared. He arched an invisible brow and examined his dark nails, uninterested. "Hmm, I don't know, Black Ice. Jack Frost's pain belongs to Melinda."

"Aww, come on, Master!" Black Ice tugged at the Boogeyman's robes, "Only I can cause him true suffering! I'm his dark side! I'm his every malevolent thought, every mistake, every sadistic act, every cruelty, every loathing! Please!"

Pitch thought about the proposition for a long moment. He'd promised himself that Melinda would be the one to eliminate Frost. He was, after all, the cause of all of her torment. Eye for an eye, tooth for a tooth, like he always said.  
But Black Ice, emotionally-driven as he was, had made a valuable point. He knew Jack Frost's wounds better than anyone else because, in a sense, they were his as well. He could make Jack suffer more than Melinda ever could.

Besides, Melinda had allowed Jack to slip away unscathed twice. Pitch was starting to seriously doubt his daughter's ability to kill the boy.

Did she...still have feelings for him?

Pitch turned back to the Fearling. "Very well, Black Ice. You may do what you wish with your counterpart."

Black Ice whooped and punched the air, "Hell yeah!" Just for a second, he looked like his other half. It made Pitch's stomach turn.

Then, the moment faded. Black Ice pulled his hood over his head, "First things first: I'll need to stock up on Nightmare Sand." With a wild cackle, he flew off into the indigo sky. The full moon, now at its zenith, glared down at the Nightmare King like a dead eye.

"Now, don't give me that look." Pitch lectured, a humourous hint in his voice. "You must have foreseen this occuring."

_'No, I didn't.'_ Tsar said with a sigh. It sounded like the wind blowing through a dead tree. _'I saw Jack Frost's mistake in unintentionally freezing the roads, thus leading to Rivera becoming an orphan. But I never would have imagined that it would lead to this.'_

Pitch stopped. It was like someone had frozen him just like the dead helpers crumpled at his feet. For a few minutes he did not answer, and his face was blank with shock. Then, it contorted with rage. With a snarl, he spun to fully face the moon, "You mean you knew that Frost would kill Melinda's parents, and you did nothing to prevent it?!"

_'No.'_ Came the weary reply.

With another snarl, louder this time, Pitch summoned a ball of glowing Nightmare Sand and flung it at MiM. Of course, it had no effect; after a few thousand feet, the orb of flickering dark matter exploded into black and violet fireworks. Naturally, the moon never budged from its place in the starry sky, but a shadow flickered across it. Was it remorse, or guilt?  
Pitch couldn't see it. His anger clouded his sight like mist.

"You monster! You devil!" Pitch shouted, though his yells were broken. "Do you have any idea how many nights I had to listen to Melinda cry herself to sleep? How many times I felt her never-ending self-loathing? How many times I heard her blame herself for her parents' death?"

_'No.'_ The moon replied sadly, _'I can't even pretend to understand that. But you must understand, I can only influence **our** world. When it comes to human life and death, I'm not permitted to undo that which has been fated.'_

"Oh, really?" Pitch laughed bitterly, "Then why did you erase my daughter's memories when she was the only one in my family who rose up? Why did you pull Jack Frost out of that frozen lake and give him eternal life?"

_'In order,'_ Tsar Lunar answered in a mournful voice, '_I erased your daughter's memories for two reasons: one, because you did not deserve to have anyone in your family resurrect. You killed them all. You did not deserve to have any of them with you on this side. And two, because I wanted to spare your daughter from knowing that her father was a killer. Do you really think she would have been happy to live forever knowing that the rest of her family was dead because of you?'_

Pitch's hands clenched into bitter fists. His nails pierced through his skin, making black blood drip to the floor.

_'And I brought Jack Frost back to life because of his pure heart.'_

Pitch snorted. "Many humans are good; why did this one deserve to live forever?"

_'Because, for one thing, he sacrificed himself for his younger sister. And secondly, I knew that, if he had died, the world might not have been the one we know today. Jack caused some deaths via avalanches, hailstorms, snowstorms, and mudslides, yes. But he also made many children happy over the centuries. Because of his center - of the center he did not know he had - he made many childrens' lives better despite their hardships.'_

Pitch looked away to hide his lost expression. Honestly, he did not know what to think of that. But, much to his disdain, he found himself not hating the winter sprite and the Man in the Moon as much as before.  
The moon shone down on the Boogeyman. It did not burn him like the sun could, but he hissed like a cat and concealed himself in the shadows anyway.

Tsar Lunar soughed again. The milky glow softened, almost like a caress. _'Please, Kozmotis. I know that if things continue the way they are, both sides will suffer massive casualties. You and the guardians form a delicate balance. Don't shatter it. Please.'_

**_'Please'_**? The Man in the Moon, the oldest spirit besides Pitch himself, was actually begging? This was almost too good to be true.

And why should Pitch listen to MiM? He'd known that Melinda would end up orphaned, and he hadn't done anything to stop it.

That alone rendered Pitch deaf to the oldest guardian's pleas. With a stony expression, he ignored MiM's words and walked into a shadow, allowing it to envelop him.

He had some unfinished business to attend to.

* * *

Black Ice exited his chambers with a pound of Nightmare Sand tied to his lean waist. He grinned, imagining at how the black sand would transform into a whole armada of Night Mares. The plan was so perfect it seemed almost surreal. Hunting down his other half would be a walk in the park, too; all he had to do was close his eyes, and he could feel a pure, bright energy, like a star.

As he adjusted some of his straps, though, he adverted something on the floor.

A black leather glove with claws at the end. It was lying in a small puddle of ebony blood, like liquified onyx. Black Ice also detected that a chunk of it had been ripped off.

The Fearling arched a brow. Momentarily forgetting about his vengeance, he walked towards the claw, bent down, and held it in his hand. Then, as he tried to figure out what it was doing here, he caught sight of something else: a torn bodysuit patterned with gray scales, also soaked in black blood.

Black Ice felt his stomach drop. Without hesitating, he stood up and swung open the door: the door to Melinda's room.

"Mistress, your clothes are all ripped." He stated, "What happened?"

There, sprawled on the bloodstained sheets, Melinda stared at him with half-closed eyes. She wore a sleeveless black dress instead of her usual bodysuit, thus exposing her scars for the first time.  
Black Ice had to admit, it was appalling to say the least.

Even from the doorway, he could see horizontal stitchmarks on both the princess's legs: on the left leg there were two on the thigh and one across the knee. The right leg had two horizontal stitches on the lower leg and across the foot.  
Even through the inky material of the dress, Black Ice saw that Melinda's torso had been sewn back together at least twice. Her arms were also crisscrossed with scars.

She looked at him coldly before finally answering his question:

"Jack Frost nipped at it."

Black Ice grimaced, "I see." As if on its own accord, his hand reached out and traced the scars on Melinda's arm. He was pleased at the touch: the skin was clammy, and even as he ran his fingers over the wrist's black vein, he didn't feel a pulse. This girl was like him, and like Pitch: neither living nor dead. As his hand rested on Melinda's arm, he noticed a crumpled, bloodied photograph sitting in front of the girl. He leaned forward to take a closer look. "What's that?"

Melinda pulled away as if she'd been burnt. At the same time, she covered the photo with her scarred hands. "I'm fine. Just go without me."

Black Ice recoiled, but he nodded and gave her a small bow. "Very well, Your Grace. I'll be back by the next twilight if all goes well."

Melinda nodded, but did not say anything in reply. With a sigh, Black Ice pulled his hood over his head and, with a wave of his rotting staff, flew off into the night sky.

The Nightmare Princess watched him go, never looking away until he disappeared from sight.

Then, when she was certain that she was alone, Melinda glanced back at the eight-year-old photo. It showed her from her former days, with both her friends. Two boys whom she'd shattered beyond repair.  
Melinda covered her face with her hideous hands and began to sob.

* * *

"How is she, Bunny?" Jack Frost asked from his spot on the tree branch. Bunny glanced up at him and sighed, shaking his head. "Not good, mate." He replied gravely, "Wit'out 'er fairies to help 'er wit' the teeth, the lil' ankle-biters ain't believin' in 'er. And the fight from b'fore really drained 'er. So, she's..." His breath caught in his throat. He cleared his throat and stared at Jack. "She's dyin', mate."

The Pooka's words were whispered, but he might as well have screamed them at the top of his lungs.

Jack's face went seashell-white. His non-beating heart chured with something colder than ice. In the blink of an eye, the boy hopped down and pushed past the giant Pooka. He rushed into the large tent that the guardians had put up, hoping that Bunny had made a mistake.

...No.

Jack felt his heart fall off a flight of stairs and crash to the ground.

Tooth, the beautiful Tooth Fairy, was lying in a makeshift bed of blankets and pillows. Her once-brilliant plumage had dulled to gunmetal-gray, and her tanned skin had become almost as bloodless as Jack's. North was knelt by her side and holding her hand in both of his, but his own eyes were swimming with tears.

Jack's heart was stomped on by a high-heeled boot.

"No..." He dropped his staff and kneeled before her, "No, no, no, Tooth." He could barely find the words that he desperately wanted to say. All he could do was watch, powerless, as one of his best friends flickered like a flame at the end of a long night. He wanted so badly to keep her alive, but his element was ice. If he so much as tried, he might end up freezing her.  
He was truly and utterly helpless.

Angry tears streamed down his face and plopped on the sheets. "Tooth...I...I'm so sorry. I couldn't do anything to help you." He bowed his head as his ashen hands clutched at his deerskin pants. "I was chosen, dammit! So what good are these powers if I can't even save my friends?!" His head bent further, "The Sweet Serpent..."

A weak hand covered his.

Jack looked up, blinking through his tears. His icy-blue eyes locked with Tooth's violet ones. He couldn't decide if it was reassuring or heartbreaking: Tooth was still in there, fighting for a few more seconds in this world.

"Jack..." Her voice was faint, barely above a whisper, "Don't...hate Lucy...She's...trapped in a cage...of hatred...She's been...through so much pain...Just, please...try..." Her eyelids flickered.

"What?" Jack clutched Tooth's hand, trying not to think about how limp it felt. "What should I try, Tooth?"

"Try..." Tooth's eyes opened, and they held onto Jack's gaze like it was the only thing keeping her alive. It probably was.

"Try...to understand her...first..."

Then, her grip slackened, and her eyes closed. North covered his eyes with his large hand, trying to contain himself.

Jack stared at the fairy, his eyes wide with disbelief. He knelt down helplessly, "Tooth? Hey, Tooth!"

Of course, there was no reply.

Tears poured down the boy's cheeks. He squeezed his eyes shut and unleashed a scream drenched in pain. It echoed through the snowy hilltops, making trees shiver and the animals tunnel deeper into their burrows.

As it still stretched within the winter wonderland, its owner scrambled through the snowy fields.

Jack ran as quickly as his gangly legs could carry him, not caring where he went or who he encountered along the way. All he knew was, he needed to be alone. Urgently. Just one thought played over and over in his brain:

_Tooth is dead. Tooth is dead. Tooth is dead._

_I let her die._

Jack collapsed in a heap in the snow-covered field, sobs wracking his skinny body. It was his fault Tooth was dead. If only he'd managed to kill the Sweet Serpent...if he'd kept a closer eye on Baby Tooth and all the others...maybe, just maybe...

"Guilt is a horrible thing, isn't it?" A voice nearly identical to his own, perhaps a note or two lower, cracked through the silent air like a whip. Jack stiffened. Then, his breathing grew more rapid as the voice continued. "I know someone who experiences that same sort of guilt every single day. She blames herself - and you, of course - for her parents' deaths. You ruined her life, and then, you forgot about her."

Black Ice shook his head sadly, "In ways I don't think you're realizing."

Jack screamed in frustration and waved his staff. An ocean of crisp, white frost made a beeline for the black-clad figure, but Black Ice grinned in reply and hopped out of the way. The ice crashed against the ground with an ear-splitting boom.

"What do you want?!" Jack hollered as he sent another wave of ice towards his counterpart, "You here to fight?! 'Cuz I'll sure as hell give you one!"

Black Ice blinked, then laughed, "Ha!" He pointed his black staff of decomposing wood at the ground. Black veins curled through the snow, threading towards the white-haired immortal. Jack's eyes widened at the sight; he barely had time to take off when the pencil-thin tendrils of ebony ice shot out and wrapped around him. He shrieked and tugged at them uselessly. He might as well have tried to pull a ship.

Black Ice, smirking the whole time, casually strolled towards the struggling guardian. "While you're just _hanging_ there, hear me out." He grinned at his own pun, "I didn't come here alone, Jackie boy. I got a whole army of Night Mares with me right now. All I gotta do is raise my voice and your friends are as good as dead."  
Jack cackled hollowly, "Yeah, right! How dumb do you think I am?"

Black Ice raised his eyebrows. Wordlessly, he pointed behind them. Jack's laughter died in his throat; slowly, hesitantly, he turned around.

He felt himself go cold for the first time in centuries.

There, in the middle of all that white, was the bright red tent North had brought along. Surrounding it was an entire herd of the snarling black mares with glowing eyes. They were standing outside the tent, making no move to attack.

But that could change.

Jack whirled around and met Black Ice's golden gaze. His dark side grinned, "So, are you gonna behave?"


	54. Chapter 53: Macabre Memories Final Part

Chapter 53: Macabre Memories Final Part  


In the silence of the house, Jack's grunts were as loud as claps of thunder. Curled up on the dusty floor, he tried for the upteenth time to pick the lock to his restraints.  
Unfortunately, Black Ice knew more about bonds than most people learn in a lifetime. The shackles around Jack's ankles and wrists were made of Lutetium, arguably the hardest metal in the world. How his other half had managed to find it, Jack would never know.  
But he did know this: it was impossible to even freeze the metal and shatter it, especially without his power.

Oh, and Black Ice had taken Jack's staff away. Yet another thing to add to the growing list of problems.

As if on cue, the hairclip he'd managed to find on the floor snapped in half like a rotten stick.  
Jack breathed in through his teeth, "Fuck." He threw the clip away, listening to it clatter across the room. As that last blossom of hope shriveled up within him, the winter sprite curled up within himself. He pressed himself against the wall, somehow feeling safer this way. Beneath this false blanket of security, he felt beyond demoralized.

He was in enemy territory, shackled up, and with no staff. He might be able to conjure up some power with a little luck, but it was much easier to have his staff. Either way, he had to find some way out of here. Even an idiot could guess that his comrades would be attacked, and without him, their chances of survival were shaky. They'd just lost a competent fighter, and everyone was still gloomy about it.

Indeed. Tooth was dead...

Jack blinked back tears and ran a hand through his silvery-white hair.

The door creaked open, snapping the boy out of his mournful thoughts. He looked up sharply, ready to glare at his other half...

...and stopped.

It wasn't Black Ice. It was a girl, a bit on the short side, with a childlike body. She wore a black cloak that had been patched together, a gray-scaled bodysuit, and clawed gloves. Her waist-long russet hair curtained her face, making it impossible to read her expression.

Jack's moment of awe vanished. He snarled and jumped to his feet, holding his hand out threateningly. A layer of diamond-like ice formed, glowing white with energy. The guardian of fun was shocked that it was working this well; normally, he was next to powerless without his staff. He could only whip up a limited amount of energy. But this was the first time it had worked so well.

Oh, well. Better take advantage of it while it lasted.

He growled, "The Sweet Serpent." Those three words were enough to make his heart burn with hatred. It was because of this creature that everything had gone up in flames: Sophie and Jamie were stuck in an orphanage, Tooth was dead, Molly was dead, and the belief of the guardians was weakening with every passing hour.

She had to pay.

The energy in his hand transformed into a winter-cold bolt, white as a falling star. Its end was sharper than any razor, and it was aimed at the Sweet Serpent's throat.

The girl blinked sadly at the weapon, like she'd been expecting it. "I guess we're no longer friends."

Jack was so surprised he actually lowered his hand.

"After all, you said we'd be 'best friends no matter what'."

Jack dropped his hand, which quickly went back to normal. The bolt vanished into thin air. "So...you're not...Melinda?" His voice softened, "You're still alive...Lucy."

The girl looked ready to cry. "Jack..." She shook her head, "The Sweet Serpent, and Lucy...they're both me, y'know?"

Jack's icy-blue eyes in realization, "Lucy...you mean...you _remember?_"

He thought back on that horrible day in the Realm, when the last thing he'd seen was the girl flying hundreds of feet above him, her face streaked with blood and tears.

"_All_ of it?"

"I..." Melinda hugged herself and shivered, even though the room was not cold, "I'm not sure. Some of the memories...are all fuzzy. But I remember..."

_The guardians, all rounded up in the Pole._

"Jack's friends..."

_A ten-year-old Jamie throwing a snow ball at her, then ducking to avoid hers._

"My friends..."

She withered like a flower, "I..."

Jack felt his anger die out. He'd never seen someone look so _lost_ before. Even though a small voice in his head screamed at him that this was his enemy, he found himself ignoring it. In that moment, she didn't look like the twisted psycho who'd chopped his friend's head off.  
She just looked like a scared little girl.

He reached out, "Lucy..."

She batted his hand away, not roughly. Jack tensed, his eyebrows flying up his forehead.

Melinda kept her head bowed, "No, don't pity me. I don't deserve it. Especially now," She held up her serpent skull mask and placed it over her face, "I'm going to help my father. He's fighting with the guardians right now."

"How can you go back to that man?" Jack all but shouted, "He's the damn _Boogeyman!_"

Melinda's face darkened. "He was there for me when no one else was." She spun on her heel and marched out, her hands fisted at her sides.

But not before Jack spotted a single, solitary tear roll down her face.

When it splashed onto the floor, its echo boomed through his mind like a tsunami wave. Jack's body went numb; he couldn't move, talk, or even blink. He could only watch as the girl he used to know walked off to fight his friends.

Crying.

Jack soughed and ran a hand through his hair, "Don't cry..."

His fingers curled around his white tousled. "Dammit..."

Two images clashed together in his mind: Melinda, the grinning maniac, and Lucy, the book-loving girl.

"The Sweet Serpent...why did it have to be born?" The winter sprite shed tears of his own, "Lucy, why're you...?"

A chuckling interrupted his train of thought. Behind him, Black Ice stood with a casual smirk on his face. With his inky armor, he looked like a knight of darkness.

"If you really wanna know..."

Jack turned around in time to see Black Ice holding his hands up, "...Let me tell you everything about that girl."

* * *

_BOOM! BOOM!_

Explosions of grass-green and bubblegum-pink filled the night sky. Bunnymund hunched over, panting as his bloodshot eyes stared ahead. Dead Night Mares lay at his feet like crumpled shadows. The dark hill was silent, and for a blissful, brief moment, the Pooka thought he'd finally taken out the Nightmare King.

Oh, no.

A black harpoon, gleaming like the Devil's grin, flew towards him at breakneck speed. "Crickey!" The Pooka barely had time to move before the harpoon impaled the stone behind him. Bunny cringed at how deeply the weapon had dug its way in.

Then, the intimidation quickly morphed into anger. With bared teeth, he spun around to see a tall, lithe figure standing among the fading smoke.

Pitch arched an invisible brow, clearly unimpressed. "Is that all you've got?"

"Hardly!" Bunny whipped out his boomerangs and leapt towards the Boogeyman. Moving faster than the wind, he swung his leg across Pitch's face. Crying in pain, Pitch doubled over; Bunny took that as an occasion to kick Pitch off the small cliff they were standing on. The Boogeyman rolled down the rocky side like a rotten log.

"Ha!" Bunny shouted, "You ain't gettin' away this time!" He jumped down, ready to smash Pitch's skull in...

...when Pitch looked up, his eyes glowing gold. He slapped his hands on the dirt; Nightmare Sand crawled out and whipped the Pooka, sending him soaring. Pitch barely had time to watch; other whips, gold ones, reached out and coiled themselves around his middle. Next thing he knew, Pitch was tossed in the air like a rag doll before being swung across the field. He rolled across the muddy snow, groaning.

Sandy stepped out, his chubby face nearly red with anger. As Pitch's cuts healed on the spot, he smirked, "Well, Sandman. Nice to know you're still in shape."

"_He not zee only vun!_"

Pitch looked up to see a five-foot sword come down on him. "Aah!" He rolled across the slush, avoiding being sliced by half a millimeter. Bunny slammed into him, sending him face-first on the ground. The three guardians glared down at him, hatred burning in their eyes like hellfire.

"I do not know vhat made you poke your head out from ground," North rumbled, "But, no more! I vill not let you threaten children!"

He swung his sword down, but the silvery metal was met with black onyx. North growled as Pitch stood up, his scythe pressed against the blade. Bunny and Sandy quickly backed away as the two men engaged in a swordfight.

North pulled his blade away and swung it, but Pitch ducked and took a jump back. He grinned, looking half-crazed. "_En garde!_" He shouted as he lunged.

The two men became blurs, with a furious clashing of metal. Bunny and Sandy didn't know which way to look, until finally, someone screamed with pain. Black blood gushed out.

Bunny smiled, "Gotcha."

Pitch crumpled in a gasping heap on the snow, clutching his side. This wasn't a superficial injury like his previous ones: the blade had sunk in deep, scraping the bones and cutting through the organs. As blood dribbled down the side of Pitch's mouth, he glared at his opponent. North aimed the sword, now streaked with Pitch's blood, right at his throat.

But Pitch only returned that cold gaze. "Strike, Nickolas." He stated, "Strike true."

North looked slightly surprised at the surrender, but he decided to grant the Boogeyman his wish. This was what needed to be done. For the sake of the children of the world, Pitch had to die.

As his blade pressed against Pitch's throat, an outraged hiss cut through the air.

Before North's eyes could even widen, a black serpent the size of a wardrobe slammed into him, its fangs flashing. Sandy and Bunny screamed (well, Bunny did) and fought their way through the Nightmare snakes. As Bunny leapt to avoid being bitten, he glanced up at Pitch.

A figure stood in front of him, protectively.

It wore a ripped black cape with the hood up, moving softly in the wind. It wore a serpent's skull that hid most of its face. Through the empty sockets, golden eyes gleamed in the dim light. Pitch looked at the figure with a mixture of surprise, gratitude, and relief.

North, holding the stump where his arm used to be, stared at the figure almost fearfully. The words left his lips like a ghost's whisper. "The Sweet Serpent."

The figure grinned, "**_Kssh._**"

* * *

A notebook was dumped on Jack's lap. "This has everything you need to know. She's been writing in it for hours." Black Ice filled him in, a playful smile on his pale face. "Apparently, she thought that there was a good chance she'd be killed tonight. So, she decided to stow away her memories."

"She..." Jack pushed the diary away. "I don't wanna read it."

Black Ice arched a black brow, "I thought you wanted to know?"

"I do, but..."

"But?" Black Ice prompted.

Jack sighed, saying nothing.

Black Ice's smile grew. "I know why. I am you, after all." He leaned against the wall, "You know that you're the one who turned the Mistress's world upside down, but you don't want to look deeper in the matter because you don't think you'd be able to deal with the guilt afterwards." His smile vanished, "Well, too bad. If I wanted to, I could kill you. Now."

Jack scoffed, "Yeah, right. You can't kill me without killing yourself."

"Not really." Black Ice held up his hand and flexed it, "I have a body separate from yours. So, yes, I'm a part of you. But even if one of us dies, it won't affect the other. Think about it: I was killed once, and it didn't affect you."

Jack winced, realizing how in danger he really was. If he didn't 'behave', Black Ice was going to butcher him. "Yeah."

Black Ice's smile returned. "Good, so we're on the same page." He leaned forward and opened the notebook, "Let's start from the beginning, shall we?"

Before Jack could protest, the contents overflooded his consciousness, sweeping him into the past.

* * *

_"Jack wasn't a hero. He wasn't a knight in shining armor._

_He was merely the source of all my suffering."_

* * *

_A doctor poked his head in, "Mr. and Mrs. Rivera?"_

_"Oh, yes!" Violet jumped to her feet, wiping her eyes (and smearing mascara onto her cheekbones). "Mr. Rivera is my younger brother." She looked at the doctor pleadingly, "Well? How are they?"_

_"I..." The doctor began to speak, then sighed and massaged his temples. Not a good sign. Lucy braced herself for the worst._

_"I'm afraid..." The doctor shook his head sadly, "They had a pretty bad fall, those two. Even if they were in the car, they had a sixty-meter fall and landed on the roof. Into a tree. Both your brother and sister-in-law are suffering from severe bleeding of the brain. We don't think they'll make it 'til morning. I am truly sorry."_

_The two females reacted in the opposite way that was expected of them. Violet began to cry while Lucy just closed her eyes, refusing to so much as whisper._

_Jack stood not too far away, his eyes wide. He watched the sorrow darken the little girl's face, and his heart felt like leads as realization kicked it: 'I did this.'  
Mindlessly, he reached out to put a hand on Lucy's shoulder. He wanted to comfort her, to do something to ease her pain..._

_His hand went through the girl's shoulder as if it were smoke. Jack froze, absorbing what had just happened.  
He'd done this to his friend...and he couldn't even comfort her.  
_

_It was too late for that. Far too late._

_Jack squeezed his eyes shut._

* * *

_When he opened them, the scene was very different indeed. Instead of the bright, cold hospital walls, Jack was standing in a dark bedroom. It was relatively large, with lilac walls decorated with tiny black stars. Just as he was wondering where he was, Jack spotted Pitch sitting on the edge of the bed, speaking to a small girl._

_"Oh?" Pitch shifted so he was sitting more comfortably, "You never speak of your parents."_  
_Lucy looked away. She spoke in a flat voice, "They're dead."_

_She might as well have hit Jack in the chest with a steamhammer._

_"...Oh."_

_Lucy spoke after a second, "They were both university professors. My mom taught chemistry while my dad taught philosophy."_

_"Ah," Pitch nodded, "And here I thought your love for books was entirely coincidental."_

_Lucy cracked a smile, "Nah." She played with a lock of her hair, which was now a couple of inches past her shoulders. "They were always busy, so they never had much time for me." She hesitated, then looked up to meet Pitch's gold orbs. The Nightmare King recognized that expression: she was debating whether to tell him what she was thinking\feeling or not._  
_He shrugged, trying not to appear too uncaring, "You may tell me or not. I won't force you if you'd prefer to keep it to yourself."_

_Lucy blinked, then looked away. There was a long silence in the small room, interrupted only by the faint neighing of Night Mares outside. After around three minutes of censorship, Pitch stood up, "I will see you this evening."_  
_Lucy didn't reply. The Boogeyman ignored the small pain in his chest and walked towards the door._

_His pale gray fingers had just brushed the doorknob when Lucy spoke: "They were always busy with lesson planning and stuff."_  
_Pitch glanced back at her._

_She stared at the ground as she continued, "...and w-when they died..." Tears filled her eyes, "...I never got to tell them...h-how...how much I loved them." She buried her face in her pillow, and her shoulders began to shake._

_Jack felt his heart crack open right there._

_"Stop it..." He whispered, "Please, stop..."_

_"**Do you understand now?**" Black Ice appeared behind him, smiling that Cheshire Cat grin of his. "**While Melinda lived a decent existence with my master, the pain and guilt never stopped eating away at her. And you?**" Black Ice made a tsk-tsk sound, "**You forgot all about her, and lived a carefree, happy life for years afterwards.**"_

_The scene changed, morphing from one to another in a matter of seconds. They all showed Jack in the following years: he was laughing with the kids, making snow days, and hanging out with Molly, like nothing had ever happened._

_"**Do you see now?**" Black Ice dug his fingers into Jack's shoulders, "**All this time, you've been killing her on the inside.**"_

_Jack hung his head, trying to block out the images. "Stop it!" He shouted, "I don't wanna see anymore!"_

_Black Ice sniggered, "**It's only just beginning.**"_

* * *

Jack's screams echoed through the night, unheard by anyone and drenched in fear, pain, and regret.


	55. Chapter 54: Final Cackle

Chapter 54: Final Cackle  


"Yaah!" Bunny lobbed his twin boomerangs at the Sweet Serpent. They spun through the frigid air like arrows, heading straight for their target.  
The masked girl merely smiled, "**_Kssh_**."  
Then, she crouched down like a leopard, waiting for the boomerangs to come. As fast as lightning, she leaped into the sky; the boomerangs hit the tree behind her instead, leaving a deep 'X' carved in the frozen bark.

The Sweet Serpent examined the 'X' with glazed, totally unaffected eyes. Then, she turned to Pitch and helped him to his feet. The Boogeyman nearly lost his footing again when he stood up, but he regained his balance. He smiled at the girl and placed his hands on her shoulders, "Good job, my dear. And thank you."  
Underneath the yellowed, cracked serpent skull, the girl smiled at her adoptive father. But this time, it didn't have her signature **_'Kssh'_** noise; it was a soft, kind smile.  
Lucy's smile.

Pitch continued to stare tenderly at the girl, but something bright caught his eye. Without even thinking about it, he shoved Melinda aside. She tumbled in a heap on the hard ice.  
A sand-whip slammed into Pitch, sending him spinning through the air like a broken toy. He crashed on the lake's frozen surface, gasping and groaning in pain.

"_Father!_" Melinda screeched. Ignoring the dull ache vibrating in her limbs, she scrambled to her feet and raced towards the scene.

Sandman's whips grew spikes; they lashed out at the Boogeyman like angry cobras. Black blood spilled out, staining the otherwise perfect pale blue ice. Pitch gripped his injuries as Sandman pelted him with attacks, not giving him time to heal.

Pitch knew his time was running out. He was already feeling dizzy from the lack of blood, and the pain was far too strong to ignore. He could barely defend himself, never mind fight back.  
As if on cue, a spiked whip curled around the Nightmare King and sent him slamming into a frozen tree. Pitch howled with pain and tried to free himself, but when he did, he felt fire sink into his flesh. The Boogeyman stopped struggling as realization finally sizzled in: the whip was still around him.  
Fear rippled through him, making his heart do somersaults in his rib cage.

A shadow loomed over him, blocking out the moonlight. Pitch looked up to see Sandman glaring at him. With absolutely lifeless gold eyes, the small man raised his fist.  
A gold knife formed within it.  
Pitch's blood froze in his veins.

"_GYAAAH!_" A high-pitched girl's voice filled the air like nails on a chalkboard.

In a flash of black and gray, the Sweet Serpent was on Sandman's back like a rabid animal. Pitch watched with amazement as the whips around him disappeared; as his wounds began to seal themselves up, he stared at the fight in front of him. Melinda's gloved, clawed hands reached for Sandman's throat and squeezed as hard as they could.  
Under the mask, the girl's face was set in a cruel snarl. But the tears rolling down her chin gleamed in the moonlight like opal stones.

As Sandman's eyes bulged, he tried desperately to pry the girl off, but it was futile; she was stuck to him like a leech.  
Finally, the lack of oxygen took its toll. Sandman's eyes rolled back, and he collapsed in an unconscious heap on the ice.

Melinda crawled off him and rushed to the Boogeyman. "Dad!" She crouched down before him. In the skull's empty sockets, her gold eyes were wide and glassy with concern. Her gloved hands moved anxiously, as if unsure whether to touch his wounds or not. Even though they were healing, the Boogeyman was far from hunky-dorey. Melinda noticed this as well; her hand covered her mouth as she stared at the gashes. "Oh, God..."  
Pitch shook his head, "No, I'm fine." Now, it was his turn to take in the girl's wounds. They were almost as bad as his: her gray bodysuit was soaked black with blood, and patches of cloth had been ripped off her arms and legs, exposing deep cuts. One gash in her thigh was deep enough for the bone to be visible. Even her skull mask was specked with blood.  
Had she really endured all this...for him?  
He could only say his daughter's name. "Melinda..."

Footsteps. Melinda, still hunched over, put herself in front of Pitch and hissed angrily.

Bunny, streaked with bright red blood, panted as he walked towards the pair of dark creatures. He might have looked angry, but his emerald-green eyes were shiny with unshed tears.  
"Why?" He asked the girl, "Why're you workin' with _him?_"  
Melinda growled, not rising from her crouched pose. "He was there for me when my world went dark. You were only there when my life was full of light."

North looked flabbergasted, "Vhat are you talking about?"

"_My parents are dead!_" Melinda screamed, startling the two remaining guardians. "You guys claim to protect the children of the world. You fill their lives with," She made mocking motions, "Candy eggs, happy memories, sweet dreams, and toys!" She lowered her hands, "But where are you when kids _really_ need you? Where were you the day my parents drowned? WHY THE HELL DIDN'T YOU HELP?!"

The two guardians glanced at each other, unable to answer. Melinda nodded, bitterly satisfied, "You weren't around because you didn't care. You're all immortal, so why would you worry about two measly humans? Especially if they didn't believe in you anymore?"  
North opened his mouth to protest, but Melinda wasn't listening. She was only listening to one thing: her own familiar, searing hatred.

"But..." She turned to Pitch, who'd managed to stand up on his own. Her eyes softened. "He was there for me. He took me in, taught me, protected me, and he..." Tears brimmed in her eyes, "He saved me from myself." She slowly stood up, wincing at the pain it caused. "That's why..."

A dagger appeared in her fist. Bunny and North took a frightened step back.

Melinda held up the dagger. "...I'LL PROTECT MY FATHER UNTIL THE BITTER END!"

Pitch gawked at the girl in front of him, so willing to shield him. Even though she was already beaten up and bleeding...she was still ready to fight to safeguard him. Even if she ended up losing an arm or a leg, she still wouldn't back down.

His brow wrinkled, and before he realized it, warm tears were gliding down his cheeks.

North bowed his head, hiding his face. The two dark creatures stared at the guardians of wonder and hope, their guards up. Neither of them noticed Sandman regain consciousness and slip away.  
Finally, the Russian man looked up. Something died in those sapphire orbs. All life and warmth had left them; now, they were as cold as frozen stones. "Eef you truly vish to protect him..."

His remaining arm pulled out a blade as sharp and gleaming as a half-moon. Bunny whipped out his boomerangs.  
"...Vee vill gladly fight you."

The Sweet Serpent's eyes went a little wild. The dagger in her hands grew until it was the same size as North's. But before she could charge, a hand clamped on her shoulder. Melinda blinked and looked up to meet golden eyes of her father. Keeping one bloodied hand on the girl's shoulder, Pitch held out the other. His scythe came about in his hand.  
He stared at her for a second. Then, he uttered one word: "Together."

Melinda blinked, then nodded in reply. "Together."

With that, the two turned to Bunnymund and North, who were ready to fight.

Melinda's eyes glimmered with madness. The wind sent her long hair into untamed dances, and the black sand seeping from her cloak transformed into snakes. She leapt in the air, a black silhouette against the ivory moon.

Her grin gleamed in the darkness.

"**_Kssh._**"

* * *

"Gnnnmm...n-no...no..." Jack squirmed helplessly in the vines of black sand. They were tied around him like some pulsing, living cocoon. Only his sweating face remained uncovered, white against the writhing sea of black.  
Black Ice sat cross-legged next to his counterpart, a giant smile on his face. "And here I thought you were gonna put up a fight." He played with his staff of rotten wood, "I can't believe we're two sides of the same coin." He stopped playing with it and pointed the end at the whimpering spirit, "You're _trash!_ Just like all those fairies I killed!"

Jack, of course, could not answer. And even if he could, he wouldn't know what to say. As pathetic as it might have sounded, he couldn't disagree with his counterpart. He _felt_ like trash, and not just because he couldn't escape.  
Try as he might, Jack couldn't rid himself of those awful feelings of guilt. He couldn't stop thinking of what he'd seen, or of what he'd heard.

One sentence sank its claws into his mind and refused to let go.

_"**All this time, you've been killing her on the inside.**"_

Tears trickled down the boy's face.

That's right. Melinda...no, _Lucy_ was in pain. He'd been the one to cause it. And now, after all these years, he had to fix it.

_SLASH!_

"Huh?" Black Ice spun around; he caught sight of something gold at the corner of his eye, but that was it.  
But when he looked back at his victim, he was so shocked he actually gasped.

All the black chains that'd been snaked around Jack were sliced in half.

Gold sand was sprinkled on the broken ends.

Black Ice felt his heartbeat quicken until it almost ached. "Shit." He jumped to his feet, holding his staff close to his body. He knew who it was, and he actually felt _scared_. Nightmare Sand was merely corrupted Dream Sand, so no matter how powerful he, Melinda, or Pitch became, Sandman would always have an advantage over them.  
And the guardian of dreams was anything but in a good mood.

His spiralling thoughts of fear were cut off by a horrible burning in his back. "Yaah!" He cantered out of the way, one hand automatically touching the damage. He winced; a deep cut was now in his back, and the skin felt like it'd been dipped in boiling oil. "Fuck..." He glared at the Sandman, who was calmly walking towards him.

"How the hell did you find me?" Black Ice growled.

Sandman smiled coolly and held his small palm up. When Black Ice realized what it was, he felt his stomach drop.

Nightmare Sand. A small pile of it was resting in the guardian's gold palm.

Black Ice had been leaving a trail without even realizing it.

But that didn't mean he'd lost.

He yelled and swung his staff. Ebony shards flew towards the Sandman, but the golden man pulled out his whips and waved them about. They cut through the shards like butter.  
Then, Sandman sent a wave of Dream Sand at Black Ice. The dark spirit's eyes widened, but when he tried to fight it off, the dark ice shattered once it touched the gold wave.  
Black Ice only had time to shield his face before the wave crashed down on him.

His scream of utter pain echoed through the abandoned house as the windows glowed gold. When the sand receded, the Fearling was hunched up in a ball on the floorboards, trembling like a leaf. His black armor was melting off his body like pudding, and so was the pale skin underneath. The muscles underneath were a grayish skin rather than the deep red of a human.  
His eyes were bloodshot and his face was contorted in agony.

That suffering quickly morphed into fury. "DAMN!" He forced himself up, even when the bones in his arm audibly snapped. "IS THAT ALL YOU GOT?!" He bolted towards Sandman; a black knife appeared in each hand, ready to kill.

But once again, Sandman attacked before Black Ice could even try. Sandman snapped his fingers, and gold sand shot into the Fearling's eyes. They lit up like candles, then exploded like dynamite sticks.

"AAAAAAAAAGH!" Black Ice crashed in a burning heap at Sandman's feet. His hands were pressed against his eyes. He shuddered uncontrollably, "Oh, God...my _eyes!_ It burns!" His shouts were reduced to pained gasps, but Sandman wasn't done yet. With a snap of his fingers, he sent a fresh torrent of Dream Sand in Black Ice's direction. The Fearling hollered in torment as the burns swallowed him whole.

As the Fearling lay there crying and screaming, Sandman turned his attention to Jack, who'd just managed to push himself up. The white-haired boy glanced at his counterpart writhing in anguish; just for a second, he felt pity worm its way into his heart. Then, he remembered that Black Ice had been doing something worse: he'd tortured him mentally and emotionally rather than physically. Just like that, Jack's pity vanished.

He shook his head to clear away the dizziness and turned to Sandman. He smiled tiredly. "Thanks, Sandy." Sandman smiled and shot him a thumbs-up. Jack ran a hand through his hair and glimpsed at the sky. Even from the distance, he could see flying boomerangs and jets of Nightmare Sand flying in the night.

He jaw tightened. "Let's go."

* * *

"Aaaaargh!" Melinda slammed against a stone, shuddering with affliction. Her arm was growing back right now, but the pain had been exactly the same. Now that she was really testing out her immortality, Melinda understood how it worked: if you get injured enough, you die, just as anyone would. But then, you heal and are ready to go a few minutes later.

But you had to experience the agony of death over and over again.

Ah, her arm had grown back for the fifth time. Melinda tested it out as she forced herself up. Yep, good as new.  
But how much longer could she keep this up? She felt beaten down and exhausted, she felt disoriented from all the blood she'd lost, and her arms and legs felt like lead.

"I..." She whispered to herself, "I don't know...how...much longer..."

A shadow towered over her. Melinda gasped and spun around just in time to see a sword come down on her.

"NO!" Pitch was in front before she could blink, his scythe intertwined with North's sword. Melinda watched with wide eyes as her father fended off the large man, the surprise paralyzing her.  
"Melinda!" Pitch snapped through gritted teeth, "Get out of here!"

"What?!" Melinda shouted, "I'm not leaving you here!"

Pitch yelled in exasperation and kicked North in the face. The Russian crashed on his back, giving the Boogeyman the time that he needed. Pitch turned around and placed his hands on Melinda's shoulders. "Melinda, please. They are only two guardians and they are both injured and weak. I can take care of them. You need to head home."

"But-"

"_Please_." Pitch cut her off pleadingly, "I can't lose you again."

Melinda stopped, staring into the golden eyes so much like hers. All she could see within them was genuine concern and care for her life. For the first time, Melinda understood that Pitch had suffered more during her 'death' than she'd initially thought.

Tears brimmed in her eyes. Just like a child, she wrapped her arms around him in a quick hug. Then, she stood up and wiped the blood off her chin. She knew she had to hurry, before North could get up. The girl had time for one last phrase; those four little words would stay with Pitch for the rest of his existence:

"I love you, Father."

Then, she flew into the air, slicing through the night like a bullet. Pitch stood there, shell-shocked at the girl's words.  
But the shock quickly evaporated, and he felt a new strength surge within him. It was greater than any strength he'd ever felt before, even in the Dark Ages.

Because now, he had someone worth fighting for.

North got up, and he was greeted by a scythe flying his way.

* * *

Sandman helped Jack limp out of the house. Even from ten meters away, Black Ice's howls of agony were still within earshot. Each scream sent a tiny spasm of pain in Jack's heart, but he gritted his teeth against it and walked on. His legs were asleep, and he felt like he'd been drained by a vampire.

He needed his staff, and fast.

Sandman started communicating with him via images above his head. After nearly a decade of knowing Sandman, Jack was able to understand everything:

_'We have to hurry. That monster might attack soon.'_

Jack shook his head, "Lucy's...not a monster. She...needs help."

Sandman frowned quizzically at him, but he did not have time to answer; Jack caught sight of his staff, sitting right next to his pond. Black Ice had clearly put it there for safe-keeping.

Well, his loss was Jack's gain.

The winter spirit let go of Sandman and ran as quickly as he could to his staff. He wasn't what one would call fast, but he was there soon enough anyway. Determination was fuelling his muscles and bones, willing them to move despite their flawed condition. He finally knew what had to be done, thanks to what he'd seen.

He knelt down and reached for his staff. He was about to touch it...

...when hisses filled the air. Jack looked up to see an army of Nightmare Snakes slither towards him from everywhere: the pond, the snow, and the shadows. Sandman held up his sand-whips, and Jack made a wild grab for his staff.

But he only grabbed empty air; the staff flew into the sky like a rocket. Jack's icy-blue eyes followed it, wide with disbelief.

A bloody, clawed glove caught it.

That glove belonged to a figure floating in the air just above the horde of serpents. Its skull-like mask obscured her face, but the wicked smirk was impossible to miss. As she held the staff, the frost on the wood vanished; now, it looked like an ordinary stick.

Melinda's grin widened, "**_Kssh._**"

Then, the staff turned entirely black.

The pain that followed was worse than anything Jack could recall. He felt like he'd been ripped open like a trout. A horrible torn feeling overcame him, and he hunched over in a desperate attempt to smother it.

"_And with that..._" Melinda purred, "_...Your weapon against us is gone._"

She waved her new staff, and a storm's worth of Nightmare Snakes emerged from it. They rushed towards the pair in a hissing mass of hatred, and Sandman did the only thing he could: he grabbed Jack and formed a shield around them. But Jack barely paid attention: he could only see the girl he used to know retreat.

"Lu..." Tears spilled down his cheeks.

He bellowed out the name with all his might.

"**_LUCY!_**"

Melinda threw her head back and cackled. It was a horrible noise, a jangle of pure hatred and malevolence. It vibrated through the night like an earthquake, leaving fear and dread in its wake.

Lucy had taken a back seat. The Sweet Serpent was firmly in control.

She grinned at her former friend and yelled something before vanishing. Those words struck Jack to his core.

"**_C'mon, Jack! Let's play!_**"


	56. Chapter 55: Playground of Carnage

Chapter 55: Playground of Carnage  


Black snakes as long as trains entwined in the navy blue sky, snuffing out the stars like the wind blows out candles. The slumbering flowers, protected by cocoons of frost, blackened as Nightmare Sand slithered past them. The air was noisy with monsters' howling, cawing, and screeching. As the clouds of ebony sand swallowed houses whole, the lights sparked out.

The residents shouted with sheer terror as the sooty creatures crashed through their windows or, at least, brushed against their homes like the waters of a flood. They left deep scratches into houses' walls and windows in their wake; their roars muffled out the screams of the people inside.

But someone heard those hollers, for she was screaming, too.

On the inside.

The Sweet Serpent was an aphotic silhouette in the inky sky, darker than black. Her new staff crackled with shadowy energy. Shapes coiled out of the staff like liquid venom, contorting themselves into the most grotesque creatures imaginable. Through the sockets, the girl's eyes were as hollow as dead trees. Her face was unreadable as she marveled at the destruction she was creating.

Suddenly, a groan escaped her lips. Her hands flew to her temples as she began to violently jerk about. Blood trickled down her lips and dripped down her chin like scarlet rain. Her hands trembled as she fought for control.

_'Why...are you doing this?'_

Deep within the Sweet Serpent's subconscious, a young girl sat on a narrow path of ice. She was eighteen years old, with pale skin with an olive tint, russet hair that reached her waist, and chestnut eyes. Clothed in a black bodysuit, she looked more like a frightened child than the legitimate adult she was. The girl hugged herself as she took in the sight through her body's eyes.

"Why're you doing all this?" She asked the shadows, "I didn't want this! I...I only wanted them to pay!"

**_'That's what I'm doing.'_**

Lucy gasped and spun around as heavy footsteps thundered through her mind. A figure stepped out of the blackness, its eyes glowing like twin suns. It was the same height as her, with the same thin, childlike body, but those were the only similarities they shares. The person in front of her donned a scaly bodysuit under a shredded black cloak. Its face was concealed by a yellowed serpent's skull, which the person removed.

**_'Didn't you say so yourself, Lucy Rivera? You said the guardians - specifically Jack Frost - are the cause of your suffering. And what do you do when something hurts you?'_**

The mask melted like ice under the May sun.

**_'You eliminate__ it.'_**

Lucy scrambled to her feet as the person walked towards her.

**_'Those creatures are to be drowned like a newborn deformity.'_**

The cloak dissolved like mist.

_**'To be cut out like a bleeding cancer.'**_

The gloves dripped off the hands like fresh blood, revealing shiny scars where the flesh had been sewn back together.

**_'To be wiped off the face of the earth.'_**

Lucy Rivera watched in horror as the suit faded away, revealing none other but her other self. It looked just like her, but with gray skin and gold eyes. Lucy's jaw tightened, and her hands balled into fists. "No," She hissed, "I won't let you hurt Jack."

The Sweet Serpent chuckled, her shoulders shaking in the process. **_'Sorry, honey. You should've thought of that before you created me.'_**

"I never meant to make you!"

'But you did.' The Sweet Serpent countered. **_'And now, I have to clean things up around here. So we can finally be free from this pain!'_**

"No..." Lucy shook her head, backing away, "Jack..."

**_'You look tired, Young Mistress.'_** The Sweet Serpent reached out, **_'Why don't you...' She wrapped her hands around Lucy's neck, '...rest for a while?'_**

* * *

"You did WHAT?!"

Sandman barely registered Bunny tackling him and pressing him against a tree bark. A strong, furry paw held Sandy's chubby throat, squeezing tight enough to trigger coughs. As he struggled to breathe, Sandy tried not to look ahead. Pitch and North were still fighting, and the snow was heavy with blood. Some was Pitch's, some wasn't. It was difficult to tell who was winning, but one thing was for certain: it wouldn't last much longer.

Bunny's breathing was heavy. Even though he looked angry, Sandy could see tears glistening in his comrade's green eyes, making them twinkle like emeralds.

"Why?" Bunny rasped, "Why'd you let Frostbite go? He'll be killed!"

_'He won't be,'_ Sandy replied, using his gold sand, _'He's got a plan-'_

"To hell with plans!" Bunny shouted, "We've lost Tooth and Molly! We can't lose Jack, too! I..." Tears streamed down the Pooka's face, leaving clean streaks in the blood spatters. "I don't wanna see anyone else die."

Sandy could only pat his friend in the shoulder, but that only made the grip on his throat go tighter. Sandy wheezed for breath.

"Why'd you let him go?" Bunny repeated, his green eyes locking with Sandy's golden ones.

Sandy smiled softly at his friend, shaking his head slightly.

_'Because he made a mistake, and now he has the chance to fix it.'_

* * *

As the insanity raged on, only one area was rendered silent. It was a small pond on the outskirts of Burgess, where only two figures stood. One was the boy who had died here, and the other was the girl who had gone down a dark road.

"My father is fighting North right now."

Jack glanced up. The Sweet Serpent didn't even look up as she twirled her new staff. As she did, tiny black eels exited the staff and climbed into the air. "So I'm going to make this quick." She held the staff to Jack's throat. "Do me a favor, and die."

Jack's eyes narrowed. "That's not what you want, Lucy."

The Sweet Serpent tensed.

**_KA-BOOOOOOM!_**

A screaming Jack was sent flying fifteen miles backwards; then, he slammed into the ground, leaving a huge dent. He cried out as his bones splintered like rotten wood, then began to repair themselves. Hot tears trickled down his pale cheeks, but they dried when the voice spoke.

"Don't call me that."

Jack growled and looked up. The Sweet Serpent leaned against her staff, but her movements were rigid with wrath.

"Lucy Rivera died a long time ago, boy. She died the moment her parents did." The Sweet Serpent informed him drily. Jack felt a sinking feeling as he heard the truth in those words. This wasn't Lucy anymore. It was something much, much more sinister.

The Sweet Serpent continued, "And the only way for you to redeem yourself..." She held up her staff, which sizzled with black energy. She grinned insanely, "...is to fight me. Either you let me kill you, or kill me and end my suffering. These are your only two options."

_'No, they're not.'_ Jack thought. He was on his feet a heartbeat later.

He knew what he had to do.

The boy summoned all the strength within him, willing it to come forth. Soon, the air around him went frigid with winter. The Sweet Serpent blinked, then smiled at the sight. Jack's hands began to glow white with power.

"If you want to fight..." He met the eyes of his former friend, "...Then I guess one of us is going to die here."

The Sweet Serpent grinned, "**_Kssh_**." She waved her staff, "That's right. Let's play, in this playground of carnage."

The staff glowed black.

Black and white collided with an explosion that lit up the world.


	57. Chapter 56: Dark Tunnels, Dark Truths

Chapter 56: Dark Tunnels, Dark Truths  


"Where is 'e?!" Bunny shouted as his fist collided with a stone. Of course, nobody could answer his question. Pitch had come very close to losing, but something had gone wrong: Black Ice, blinded by Sandman's previous intervention, had appeared. Making sure to leave wounds that would cripple normal humans, Black Ice had distracted the guardians while his master made a run for it. Sandman had managed to chase his counterpart and the Fearling...until Pitch and Black Ice had reached the old mining tunnels.

Then, the dark duo had been as good as gone: the guardians knew that it was like a labyrinth over there. If one knew where to go, he could stay hidden for decades. That, combined with Pitch's ability to shadow-travel, made a search worthless.

The guardians all knew that, but that didn't mean that they were about to give up.

"But he can't have gotten far!" Bunny protested, "You sliced him up real bad, North."

"_Da_," North agreed, "But ve must not let him escape. He has committed too many crimes to be forgiven now." His eyes darkened, "Pitch and his daughter must be punished."

Sandman didn't look like he liked that prospect, but what choice did he have? Sadly, he nodded and glanced around. Something caught his eye, causing him to straighten and tug at North's sleeve.  
"Hm?" The guardian of wonder frowned down at his teammate. In response, the little gold man pointed to a tunnel entrance to the left.

There was a river of drying black blood leading to the obsidian unknown.

Bunny grinned, "Gotcha."

* * *

Back at the guardians' tent, Toothiana lay in a bed of cushions and silken cushions. Before departing for the hunt, the three remaining guardians had left bouquets of wildflowers beside their fallen friend.  
They couldn't bring themselves to bury her. Not yet.

As the madness and bloodshed continued within the forest, the moon peeked out from a dark cloud. Its silver light shone into the tent, creeping across the carpeted floor. Once it reached the fairy's corpse, the moonlight grew more intense, painting those gorgeous feathers white and pale blue.

Then, the fairy's eyes opened. Her violet orbs twinkled in the luminescence like polished gems. Life sparkled within them as she looked up at the moon. A small, relieved smile appeared on her lips.  
"Thanks...Manny..." She whispered.

_'Don't thank me yet,'_ The Man in the Moon answered sadly, _'I need you to do something for me.'_

Tooth nodded, waiting.

_'The night is almost over. I need you to go to Jack's pond at dawn.'_

Tooth frowned, "What? Why?"

The moon hesitated before answering, _'It is where Pitch, Black Ice, and Melinda will be executioned.'_

* * *

Black Ice and Pitch ran down the tunnel, their feet crunching the old coal beneath them. They didn't know how far they'd gone, but it didn't matter. Pitch had been severely weakened in his struggle with North: besides wearing himself ragged, he'd lost enough blood to kill a normal human. He didn't have nearly enough strength to shadow-travel himself and Black Ice back to their base. Running was already a struggle.

Black Ice wasn't doing great, either. Besides being exhausted, he'd been blinded by Sandman when the golden fatso had rescued Jack. But even without his sight, the Fearling sensed that the odds were not in their favor.

He touched the uneven walls, leaving black smudges on his ashen palms. "It gets narrower the further we go!" He exclaimed, fear creeping into his voice.

Pitch's jaw tightened. He wasn't going to let his last soldier chicken out. Roughly, he slapped the Fearling upside the head, "We have to keep moving..."

He stopped, a startled yelp leaving his lips.

Black Ice heard his master stop walking and turned around, "W-what is it?"

Pitch didn't reply. Something was in front of him. Something that made his blood run cold.

It was his brother, exactly the way he remembered him: tall, lean, with thick black hair curling around his shoulders. His soft brown eyes locked with Pitch's gold ones, brimming with tears.

Then, he vanished.

Black Ice yanked on Pitch's sleeve, "What's the matter with you, master?"

Pitch shook his head to clear it, hastily wiping his eyes, "It's nothing, boy. Now, let's keep moving."  
Grabbing Black Ice's wrist, he hurried forward, keeping his eyes on the ground. He knew that the image hadn't really been his brother: that man had been dead for centuries. It was merely a hallucination, a picture in his head. Pitch had gone through this several times in the past. It was nothing to be afraid of...

Lying in the dirt in front of him was his wife, her face contorted in agony.

"Aah!" Pitch stopped again, his hands covering his mouth. Black Ice bumped into him, confusion plastered on his pale face. His white, unseeing eyes were wide with befuddlement, "Why're you stopping?"  
The only answer the Nightmare King provided was taking a step back, his eyes focused on the woman he'd killed.  
"Master, what's happening to you?!"

Dead ahead, an old woman with Pitch's sharp features walked a few steps towards them. Then, she dissolved like powder in water.

Pitch didn't answer, but tears were leaking from his eyes.

A loud, metallic scraping sent Black Ice's head spinning backwards. His unseeing eyes widened as the scraping noise continued to advance, growing louder by the second.

North's swords.

"Master!" Black Ice shoved Pitch forward, "We have to keep moving! They'll kill us if we don't!"

The words - or the urgency laced within them - were enough to get Pitch to turn around. But when he did, his pupils shrank with terror.

He saw a little girl running towards them, a smile on her face. It was Lucy, back when he first met her. But as she got closer, her simper turned into a sneer; her clothes morphed into her suit.

Tears flowing from Pitch's eyes, he grabbed Black Ice's arm and dragged him down the tunnel, away from his guilt and sorrow.

* * *

"Ve must continue, or zey shall escape!" North shouted as he sharpened his swords against the stony walls.  
Bunny, in stark contrast to his previous hysteria, was smirking. "Trust me, mate: they won't."

"Vhat?" North frowned and turned to his furry teammate, who only grinned. Bunny explained, "I saw people workin' on dis tunnel a few years back. It gets narrower da further ya go, 'til not even a kid can get through."

He walked ahead of North, a grin on his face.

* * *

"I knew this would happen, sooner or later." Pitch muttered to himself as he crawled. The tunnel had, true to the Pooka's words, shrunk within a few feet. Now, the only way to get through was to crawl on all fours like an animal. Black Ice, travelling a few inches behind, frowned. "What do you mean?"

Pitch hesitated. In the end, it looked like he was as good as dead anyway. What harm could confessing do? He might even feel better afterwards.  
Finally, he spoke. "This is punishment for what I did. Back when I first rose, I killed my parents, my wife, my brother, and my daughter. All of them!" He hung his head as he continued to crawl, "I murdered them in cold blood, and now I'm getting what I deserve."

"But you didn't mean it!" Black Ice protested.

Pitch shook his head, defeated. "No. I did." Tears streamed freely down his face, but his sorrow was cut short when something stopped him.

"Huh? Keep going!" Black Ice shouted, panicked.

"I can't." Pitch replied, "There's something blocking the path."

It was true: where a path should've been was a solid layer of concrete.

They'd picked a tunnel that'd been closed off.

They were trapped as rats.

"What?!" Black Ice screamed, "But we're sitting ducks here!" He pushed his master, "Please do something, please! I don't want to die!"  
He'd barely finished talking when a furry paw grabbed his ankle. With an ear-splitting scream, Black Ice dug his nails in the dirt.  
"Black Ice!" Pitch reached out to grab the boy, but it was no use: the Fearling was dragged into the shadows a second later.

Pitch lay there, his hand still outstretched, staring at the inky tunnel.

His Fearling was gone.

Slowly, painfully, he retracted his hand and moved back to the layer of concrete. What else could he do? He wasn't strong enough to break it. As he pressed his forehead against the cool stone, thoughts raged within his head:

_'This is all my fault. I killed my family, and I turned Melinda into what she is now. If I'd helped her fight her hatred rather than fuelling it...things might have changed.'_

Pitch's face crumpled as his hands fisted. _'I...I did this to her.'_

He punched the concrete until he heard bones snap, but he still didn't stop.

What did stop him was a hand curling around his foot.

"Huh?" Pitch glanced over his shoulder...to see Melinda, clad in her Sweet Serpent attire. Her face was streaked with blood and tears, and her golden eyes twinkled.

Golden eyes. The ones that he'd given her.

Pitch shrieked as his daughter's image vanished, revealing a stone-faced North holding Pitch's foot with one hand and his sword with the other.  
"Nickolas?!"

In reply, North stabbed the Boogeyman in the thigh. Pitch screamed in pain, "STOP IT! NO!"  
North continued to mercilessly stab Pitch while the dark king shouted, "I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I know that I did something terrible, but PLEASE! Please spare me!"  
North effortlessly tied Pitch's feet together like a hunted animal. He looked at the Nightmare King with cold eyes that didn't betray any emotion.

Pitch wouldn't be recieving any mercy from those eyes.

"Let me go!" He tried anyway, "Let! Me! GO!" As he was tugged, Pitch dug his nails in the concrete wall, but the strength pulling him was far too strong. Pitch felt himself being dragged across the grimy earth, leaving deep scratches in the concrete.

**_'Father!'_**

He could hear Melinda calling him, and that's when the truth finally dawned on the Nightmare King. As he was dragged away from the wrecked wall, he caught sight of Melinda there. She looked at him with mournful eyes, upset that he couldn't be where she was.

Finally, after so many centuries, Pitch understood.

_'I didn't really want to bring my family to this side; **I wanted to change back**.'_

Tears slid down his face as he called out to his daughter, but of course, she didn't move. She simply continued to stare at him. The rest of his family appeared, staring at him sadly.

_'But I can't. Never there; never with **them**.'_

Pitch reached out for his family with a muddy, bloodstained hand as he was pulled away.

_'I'll never, ever make it back...'_

Then, his family faded into the shadows, leaving him alone.


	58. Chapter 57: Two Hearts

Chapter 57: Two Hearts  
  
**_K-BOOOOOM!_**

_**BOOOOOM!**_

Gigantic clouds of frost and ice towered towards the sky. Black sand exploded not too far off, staining the snow white.  
Jack Frost flew into the air, jetting towards the east. Melinda Black winged to the west.

Simultaneously, they held their hands out. A glowing white orb of icy force appeared in Jack's palm, while a thick ribbon of ebon sand curled around Melinda's.

**_BWOOOOM!_**

**_K-POW!_**

Around the teens, whole chunks of earth were torn off, leaving craters in the frozen ground. Smoke climbed into the sky, and destruction filled the air.  
Their eyes locked, coldly. Frigid gold met icy blue.

Then, Melinda leapt into the air. Jack growled and waved his hand. Half a dozen lamps of winter energy zipped after her, sizzling like fire. Then, he floated after them, ready to fire more if they missed their target. Melinda turned around, her eyes widening at the sight.  
Black sand gathered in her gloved hand.

Jack gasped.

**_K-POOOOW!_**

Grayish smoke erupted, cloaking the entire area from sight. Tiny fragments of ice filled the air like sand during a sandstorm, and the Nightmare Sand moved like eels in water.  
With a wave of her hand, Melinda cleared some of the smoke. Her russet hair rippling behind her, she stared at her handiwork. She arched a brow. Was Frost out already?

Another orb of intensity whizzed towards her. Melinda yelped and just barely moved away in time; she avoided getting hit in the face, but some of her long hair froze and snapped off like dead twigs.

The smoke cleared, revealing a thin, white-haired boy. His clothes were stained with blood and torn in many places. He was hunched over but still standing, and his arm was stretched out. His head was bowed, his spiky hair hiding his eyes. "This place is..."

He looked up with wet eyes, "...WHERE I FIRST MET MOLLY! WHY?!"

More orbs flew towards Melinda; the girl did sumersaults and double-flips to avoid being hit.

"Would you forgive me if I said I was sorry?!"

Explosions filled the air, slicing trees in two and scarring the earth. Yet Melinda flew and jumped, never getting scratched.

"You said it yourself, Sweet Serpent!" Jack shouted, "'Either let me go or kill me'! So, what of it?!" He held his hand, which was incased in glittering ice, "I've had this power for over 300 years! I've made snowstorms, frozen oceans, and caused too many avalanches to count! BUT CAN I REALLY KILL YOU?!"

Melinda sent a black ball of Nightmare Sand at him, which he ducked to avoid; it hit the tree behind him; the sand seared the bark, sending half the tree tumbling to the ground.

"I FORGOT YOU, LUCY!" Jack shouted, tears filling his eyes once more. He began firing at Melinda, smoke and eruptions shrouding her from sight.

"BUT!"

_Lucy smirked as she walked towards him, her hands behind her back. "Oh, yes." She nodded, "You look tired. Maybe you should..." She pulled out a can of silly string, "...Lie down!"_

"You cheered me up!"

_She placed a hand on his shoulder. That gesture alone said what words couldn't._

"Consoled me!"

_"JACK!" Lucy tackled the winter sprite, sending them both crashing on the carpeted floor. The ebony ice coated the pillar behind them, and all Jack could think was: _'That could've been me.'

"Saved me!"

As cracks appeared in the ground, smoke continued to climb into the sky. Jack was openly crying now, "I wanted to tell you that I fell for you, dammit!"

With a shout, he sent one last, gigantic orb of winter power flying her way.

K-BOOM!

Then, silence. Jack slowly lowered his hand, blinking in perplexity. Had he...?

Footsteps crunched through ice and broken wood. A dark figure emerged from the wall of smoke.

"If you really 'fell' for me," A female voice spoke, "Then let me go already."

Melinda met his eyes, as cold and demanding as the Ice Queen. Jack met her gaze and shook his head. Nothing was going to get through to her. There was only one thing he could do at this point.

He raised his hand, frost appearing in his palm.

Melinda followed suit, black sand encircling her arm.

Two lights shone brightly like small suns, lighting up the entire forest. One was as white and blinding as a star, while the other was black as tar, with thin veins of gold.

The two teens leapt in the air, fighting mercilessly. Melinda kicked Jack in the face, while he punched her in the stomach. Melinda created sand-whips that grabbed Jack by the ankle and sent him flying into a tree, but as he tumbled down, Jack fired ice shards at the girl. They sliced through her cloak, suit, and skin underneath.

Jack's core - his center - glowed with winter vitality.

Melinda's core glowed black with nightmares, pain, and hatred.

Their tears mingled together.

As they continued to fight, thoughts raced through their minds. Neither of them spoke these pensives out loud, but somehow, they were heard.

_'I was brought back to life by the blessing of the moon...'  
_

**'...While I was ressurected through the power of darkness.'**

_'I explored the world, spreading snow balls and fun times to all the people I encountered...'_

**'...While I spread nightmares and fear everywhere I went.'**

_'During the day, I played with my friends...'_

**'...While I played in my cave, all by myself.'**

_'I didn't remember my previous life, or my family...'_

**'...While the past haunted my every waking moment, and plagued my dreams.'**

_'I always felt like something was missing, but I didn't know what...'_

**'...While I always knew, and that was what hurt the most.'**

**_"We didn't really know what it meant...to be happy or unhappy, to be alive or dead..."_**

The teens surged into the air, two black profiles against the bright silver moon.

**_"...until the day we reunited."_**


	59. Chapter 58: Slayer's End

Chapter 58: Slayer's End  


**_K-BOOOM!_**

One last explosion filled the air, shrouding the moon's ashen face. Nightmare Sand mixed with chips of ice filled the air like smoke, concealing the small lake. For a few minutes, the gray wall hung over the area, impenetrable as concrete.

Then, two dark forms appeared within the smog.

One was a girl in her late teens, adorned in a scaly gray bodysuit, clawed gloves, and a ruptured black cloak. She was battered and bleeding; chunks of her suit had been ripped clean off, revealing bleeding cuts and purpling bruises underneath.  
The boy in front of her was no better: his snowy hair was caked with sweat, mud, and blood, one of his eyes was bruised black, and his clothes were only slightly better than grisly rags. He stooped over, his hand raised in front of the girl. A swirling pellet of winter energy formed within his bleeding palm, aimed right at the girl's face.

The Sweet Serpent stared at the globe of crackling force...and closed her eyes, a soft smile on her bloodstained face.

Finally, she could rest.

Melinda kept her eyes closed as she felt the orb fly...right past her ear.

Her golden eyes flew open, "Huh?!" She spun around and watched the ring of power whiz through the air and hit the cliff behind them. With an ear-splitting boom, a torrent of rocks and earth came crashing down towards the teens. Melinda stared at the incoming shower of stones with wide, shocked eyes; but she quickly got over it. Instinct took over: her gloved hand shot up, with black sand pouring out. A bubble formed around the duo as the rocks crashed down, slamming into the barrier.

Then, after a few struggling moments, the avalanche ended.

The shield dissolved; pale moonlight washed over the two exhausted immortals, who barely had the strength to sit up. Melinda, after that last surge of power, was lying in the snow, but she quickly recovered. With a grunt and pained grimace, she pushed herself into a sitting position and looked down at Jack. She stared at him for a long, tense moment before punching him in the arm. "You _weakling!_" She snapped, "You couldn't even kill me, and I was right in front of you!"

Jack, lying on his back, groggily opened his eyes. They caught the moon's light, making them silvery-blue. Those eyes, the color of a moonlit ocean, looked at Melinda and saw something she hadn't seen herself.  
"Well...that's because..." With a groan, he pushed himself up into a sitting position. "...That's not what you really want, is it?"  
Melinda frowned, not understanding.

"You..." Jack laid his head on her shoulder, like she used to do with him as a child. "You don't really want to do this, do you?"

Melinda froze, her muscles going stiff. Her golden eyes widened to their limits as the boy's words echoed in her mind like a chime.

Then, the Sweet Serpent did something that no one would've expected: she sniffled and lowered her head, squeezing her eyes shut. Her shoulders shook with quiet sobs; Jack didn't move his head as the girl silently wept. After a couple of minutes, she looked up and met his eyes. Hers weren't the gold of Melinda Black, but the warm chestnut of Lucy Rivera.

"I...wanted to go to university...go on vacations with my parents...spend time with my aunt and uncle." Lucy's tears shone brightly as they streamed down her face, "But it's too late to do those things now. Far, far too late." Lucy slapped her hands over her visage, "I never should've been born!"

Now, she wasn't even trying to hold back her tears, "I...I'm a curse! I spread death and fear wherever I go!" Lucy extracted her hands from her face and stared down at them with utter disgust. She glared at them like she wished they didn't belong to her. Jack watched her weep, an unreadable expression on his bloodless face.

Lucy trembled, and not just from the cold night air. Her tears flooded forward after years of her suppressing them. "I've killed and done so much damage to so many people...That's why I don't have the right to live anymore! I could never forgive myself for the things I've done! Everything about me is hateful; and that's why, in the end, I hate myself."

Her shoulders trembled uncontrollably, "But...at the same time, I don't wanna die."

The last sentence came out as a whisper, "_I only wanted to be happy_."

Jack grabbed her hand and pulled it towards himself. Lucy watched cluelessly as her former friend held her hand in his, palm facing upward. Wordlessly, Jack removed Lucy's clawed glove, exposing the pale, scarred hand underneath. Using his free hand, he began to draw on her palm using the blood from his wounds.

Finally, he pulled away, a tiny smile on his face.

He'd drawn a capital 'G' on the girl's hand.

'G' for Guardian.

Lucy's eyes widened even further, disbelief washing over her.

"I know it seems impossible," Jack said gently, "But, if you want...you could become one of us. I know you can't forgive yourself, and I don't think I'll ever be able to completely forgive you, either. But you don't have to be alone anymore." He placed a hand on Lucy's shoulder, "You have to learn to let go, and live your life."

Lucy's astonished look slowly softened. A small simper graced her face as she closed her hand into a fist and held it to her chest. Droplets splashed down on it, glimmering in the moonlight like diamonds. "Is that...really okay? Even after all my mistakes...do I really have the right to love you, Jack?"

Jack didn't answer with words; instead, he pulled the girl in a simple embrace. Lucy was rigid at first, but gradually, she relaxed in his embrace. Jack sighed, a smile on his face...when something sharp dug into him.

Time stopped.

Slowly, the winter sprite looked down at the source of the pain. His belly was quickly turning red, and a black dagger was impaled into his body.

Lucy had stabbed him in the abdomen with her knife.

And no one was more shocked than the girl herself. She sat there, holding the knife with a blank look on her face...when she suddenly snapped out of it. Lucy wrenched herself free, dropping the bloody knife in the snow. Jack collapsed in a heap as the girl stood up; she clutched her head with her hands, an anguished look on her face. She stared at her friend, lying on the snow, bleeding...because of her.

She collapsed to her knees, and the scream that left her mouth was not of this world. Jack twitched and sluggishly looked up; what he saw turned his spine to ice.

Lucy's eyes had switched back to gold. That dark smile appeared on her face as she held her hand out, ready to finish the job. "**_Die, Frost_**!"  
Then, her eyes changed back to brown. She pulled her own hand away, "NO!"

* * *

_Deep within Lucy's mind, a battle was raging. Lucy was pulling the Sweet Serpent away, while the armored figure growled. It elbowed Lucy in the belly, making her gasp and tumble down. "Stupid girl." It spat, "Is that really all it took? Some nice, flowery words and feigned empathy? Why don't you just do what you want and kill him already?!"_  
_"'Cuz I don't want to." Lucy whispered, glaring at her counterpart, "Why're you acting this way?! WHY?!"_

_"I'm you." The Sweet Serpent replied, like that answered everything, "I'm the part of you who never stops feeling pain, who never stops thinking about that awful day. You may want to die, but I don't! I wanna yank Frost's spine out of his mouth!"_

_"No..." Lucy scrambled to her feet, "I won't let you kill Jack!"_

_"Have you lost it?!" The Sweet Serpent shouted, "He killed your parents!"_

_"It was an accident."_

_The Sweet Serpent growled in exasperation, "I'm not listening to this! I'm making Jack pay!" With that, it whirled around to resume control._

_"NO!" Lucy tackled the Sweet Serpent. Suddenly, a wild idea planted itself in her head. She took over her body, crouched down, picked up the dripping switchblade...and held it to her own throat, "The only ones who're gonna die..."_

* * *

"...are you and me!" Lucy screamed, holding the knife to her neck. The blade dug into the skin; tiny beads of black blood appeared.

"Lucy..." Jack rasped as the crimson pond grew around him.

_'You shithead!'_ The Sweet Serpent's infernal voice boomed within Lucy's head, _'You'd really kill yourself to save your parents' murderer? You're hilarious!'_

"I've had enough!" Lucy shouted, "I don't want to hurt people anymore! I'd rather kill myself than hurt Jack...especially after just now! I'm not going to kill my friend!"

The knife dug in deeper.

_'Wait, Lucy! No! Don't!'_

But it was too late. Steeling herself, the girl prepared to shove the knife in...

...only to recieve a huge push from a third party. With a grunt, she crashed in the snow. The blade skidded away from her, leaving a specked path of blood in its wake. Lucy stared at it in shock before realizing who'd pushed her. She glanced up to see Jack standing over her, his hand pressed to his wound. As Lucy watched, the injury began to heal. It was slow, but it had stopped bleeding.

"Lucy..." Jack shook his head almost angrily, "How could you think of dying on me?! Do you have any idea how bad I felt when Tooth died? When Molly died?! It was like..." He stopped, searching for a way to describe his feelings, "It was like the sun had died." He shook his head as tears trickled down his cheeks, "I never want to feel that way again."

Lucy's eyes were wide with shock, "Jack..."

The darkness within her thrashed about wildly like a crazed snake. Then, finally, it disintegrated. The hatred that had been keeping it alive had been extinguished.

Finally, Lucy was free.

She squeezed her eyes shut as more tears appeared. "I'm so sorry, Jack, sorry..." The winter spirit merely hugged the girl a second time. This time, she returned the gesture, sobbing in his shoulder like a scared little girl.

They stayed like that for what felt like a few minutes but what must have been an hour. To be honest with themselves, the duo wouldn't have moved anytime soon. They were content simply by being in each other's arms.

But they weren't given the choice.

"Hya!" Bunny appeared behind Lucy. Swift as lightning, he grabbed her by the hair, tearing her away from Jack. The girl cried out and fought in the Pooka's grasp, but Bunny hit a pressure point. Lucy's eyes rolled back, and she lost consciousness. Bunny gathered her in his arms, disgust evident on his face. "Hey!" Jack jumped to his feet, the wound completely healed now. "What the hell, cotton-tail?! She's fine now!"

"She's wit' da Boogeyman!" Bunny retorted hotly, "Do ya really t'ink we're gonna let 'er go after all da damage she caused?!"

"But-but she's changed!" Jack tried, knowing how pathetic he sounded, "She's not gonna hurt anyone anymore! Look, she tried to kill herself to avoid killing me! Does that sound like a dangerous person to you?!"

Doubt flickered across Bunny's face. He stared at Jack for a long moment, searching his eyes. Then, he looked down at the unconscious girl in his arms. Her face was streaked with tears, and there was a small cut on her throat.  
On the palm of one of her hands was a 'G', scrawled in blood.

Bunny sighed, though he didn't drop Lucy. "Look kid, I got orders from North. I gotta take dis girl to da otha' side o' yer pond." He glanced down at the girl, and his features hardened. "She may've turned a new leaf now, but dat doesn't change all da pain she caused." He met Jack's desperate gaze with his own conflicted one, "I'm sorry, but dat's just how it is."

"No!"

Bunny soughed and glanced behind Jack. He jerked his chin at the winter sprite. Jack frowned and whirled around...to recieve a pinch of Dream Sand in his face.

Sandy caught his friend as he fell asleep, doubt creasing his chubby face. Bunny saw the conflict on his comrade's visage and said, "We gotta do this, Sandy. Dey tried ta kill us, and dey posed a threat to da children; dey gotta be punished."

Sandman couldn't answer his teammate. But even if it was within his power, the little golden man wouldn't have known what to say.


	60. Chapter 59: A Friend's Farewell

**Okay you guys, first things first: I'm pretty disappointed with the fact that my latest chapter only had 1 review, especially since a) so many people are following this story and b) it was such an important part of the story: Jack finally understanding Lucy and Lucy defeating the hatred within herself. I work really hard on these chapters and would appreciate a bit more feedback. Please leave some reviews on this chapter, or I'll seriously consider quitting. And I only have the epilogue to go after this!**  
**So please please PLEASE review.**

* * *

Chapter 59: A Friend's Farewell

Bunny and Sandman arrived as the sky began to lighten from black to dark blue. Sandman had the skinny, white-haired boy draped over his shoulder like he was weightless. Bunny, on the other hand, had roped Lucy's wrists and ankles together, and he'd taken the precaution of throwing away her gourd of Nightmare Sand. As the duo walked towards the frozen pond, which was beginning to reflect the paling sky, Sandman glanced at the Pooka. Bunny caught sight of the concern swimming in those gold orbs and snorted. He jerked his head towards the pond, where North had finished binding Pitch and was moving on to Black Ice. "Go on, Sandy."

Sandman pursed his lips together, clearly troubled. But in the end, he succumbed to obedience and floated towards the Russian man.

Once the chubby golden man was out of sight, Bunny glimpsed down at the unconscious girl. Her face, speckled with blood, had a pair of clean streaks where her tears had spilled forth. Even from this angle, the 'G' scrawled on her palm was visible. It made the Pooka's stomach twist uncomfortably. Before he knew it, he was reconsidering the situation. Did this girl really deserve the same fate as her mentor and the Fearling? Those two definitely had no chances of running away unharmed: they'd violated just about every law in the spiritual world. They'd killed, stole, kidnapped, and done so many horrible things to innocent by-standers. But how did Lucy deserve the same punishment they did?

Bunny stared at the girl's face...and a memory flashed in his mind, making him gasp. He recalled her from a few years back, grinning at him from the top of a destroyed St. Louis apartment building. Then, he remembered seeing her that fateful day in the Realm, with that horrible snake skull covering most of her face.

With that cruel smile...

Bunny's face hardened, as did his heart.

Lucy wasn't innocent, either. In fact, she'd caused more pain, fear, and suffering than any human Bunny had come across in a very long time. She'd murdered her own cousin, murdered a family just to use their house, sent three kids in a permenant state of shock, slaughtered an entire team of construction workers, and worst of all, she'd killed Molly. Was Bunny really becoming so infantile by sparing Lucy just because she looked innocent now?

No. She didn't deserve to go free.

With new determination, Bunny carried the girl to the pond. Once he reached his three comrades, he eyed North's handiwork. Like Bunny, he'd tied the creatures' wrists and ankles together to limit their movements. Then, he'd anchored the unconscious duo to a tree stump. He hadn't used ropes, either: he'd used steel chains.

With a grunt of approval, the Pooka passed Lucy onto the Russian. North took the girl and, like Bunny, looked remorseful for a moment. Then, he remembered the girl's crimes and was newly motivated. Laying the girl down next to her mentor, the burly man reached into his torn, crimson cloak and extracted an identical chain of rusting metal. With a stone-like face, he clinched the girl to the tree stump. Even though he was lacking an arm, North performed the task with relative ease.

Finally, his work was done. He stood up and wiped his brow. "Vee do not need to vait long." He said in a quiet voice, casting his gaze at the brightening sky, "Dawn eez coming."

For several long minutes, the three guardians remained immobile. They found no need (or desire) to talk, so they stood in complete soundlessness as they awaited the arrival of the sun. As the full, cold moon began its journey across the early morning sky, North took a gander at it. His sapphire eyes watered.

_'Manny,'_ He thought,_ 'Eez zis vhat you vanted us to do?'_

Sandman stared at the three restrained, sleeping beings like he couldn't see anything else. They didn't look like the viscious, murdering trio they'd been fighting for what felt like an age. They looked so...peaceful, and harmless. His stubby fingers twitched, so he stuffed them in his golden robes.

Finally, the moon's fiery counterpart lumbered into view. The first few morning rays painted the snowy landscape gold as the birds began to chirp.

Soon, the rays washed over the icy pond as well.

Black Ice and Lucy were the first to feel it. With their eyes still closed, they grimaced and twitched under the sunlight. Then, as the light grew stronger, boils began to appear in their skin. Black Ice's eyes flew open as a groan of pain escaped him.

It was the stone in the lake. Within seconds, all three of them were writhing and struggling as the sun began to burn them. Their screams filled the air like some terrible chorus of sirens. Black Ice's face was nearly unrecognizable with boils now; his hair began to burn like hay thrown in a campfire. He shouted, "_Ahghg! Let me go! Help me!_"  
Pitch gritted his teeth against the pain; the sunlight seared into his skin, which was beginning to hiss like a raw steak thrown on a barbecue. Black vapor plumed in the air, which was beginning to reek of burning flesh.  
Lucy wasn't doing much better; her entire back was an open, gaping wound of burnt skin and scorched bone. "Noooo!" Lucy shouted, tears welling in her eyes. For a second, they looked gold; then, they shifted back to chestnut-brown. A word left her name. A strangled, desperate cry for help.

"JACK!"

The winter sprite's eyes snapped open. He instantly sat up, every sense alert as a fox's. He instantly registered the agonized, terrified screams and stench of burning flesh. When he looked up, his face went whiter than it had ever been. He watched in horrified paralysis as the three people who'd been his enemies burned to death under the morning sun. Pitch desperately tried to free himself by tugging at his bonds; he only succeeded in losing his entire right arm. Black Ice was barely moving now, and his bones were visible; they'd been ignited to the color of tar.  
Lucy was hiding her face in the snow, hopelessly trying to shield her face. Her tears streamed down her cheeks, and that was enough to trigger Jack's wrath.

"What the hell?!" Jack jumped to his feet. He marched to his companions and slapped North on the shoulder. "North, what're you doing?!"

"Zey had to be dealt vith." North answered, though his voice trembled and he wasn't watching. Bunny and Sandman refused to look at their youngest team member in the eye, but shame was scrawled all over their faces. Jack was so shocked it took him a moment to reply. He gestured to the three writhing immortals in front of them. "You call this justice?!" He shouted, "If you do this, you're no better than they are!"

"Do not patronize me!" North snapped, making Jack stand back, "Zey heal no matter vhat vee do! Zis only guarentee!"

Jack could only shake his head in disgust. He looked back at the three immortals...and made his decision. Silently, he walked towards the edge of the pond. "What're you doin'?" Jack ignored him and punched the rock-hard ice. A portion of it splintered under his pale fist, and he pulled out a long shard of ice with a tip as pointed as a shark's tooth. With a blank face, he made his way towards the execution site.

He reached Black Ice first, who was so close to death his eyes were closing. Squeezing his own eyes shut, Jack stabbed his dark side in the chest, ending his suffering. Then, he did the same with Pitch, putting an end to his anguishing pain. The Boogeyman went still, his golden eyes staring at the sun for the first time in centuries.

"Frostbite..." Bunny said softly, "Ya don't hafta do that."

Jack ignored the Pooka. He walked towards the last one left, regret creasing his features.

Lucy's beautiful russet hair was slowly burning under the sun, and her shoulders were trembling. With fear? Pain? Grief? It was impossible to tell. Then, as if sensing his presence, Lucy forced herself to look up. Her once smooth face was singed; her cheeks and forehead were already black and crumbling away, and her lips were gone. But her gleaming, tearful eyes hadn't changed. They locked with his, and a silent understanding passed between them.

Jack had started Lucy's suffering. But in the end, he'd been the one to terminate it as well.

Frozen tears fell from Jack's face. "I'm sorry." He whispered, "For everything."

Then, he plunged the ice shard into Lucy's heart, ending her life instantly.

He crashed to his knees in front of the last corpse, his head bowed.

In that moment, a flash of color passed by. It was Tooth, as healthy and strong as her former days. She stopped instantly when she took in Pitch's and Black Ice's burnt, stabbed cadavers. Slowly, her eyes widened and her hand covered her mouth. Guilt washed over her like a tidal wave.

She'd arrived too late.

Tooth noticed Jack sitting in front of the body of his fallen friend. As tears of her own welled in her eyes, Tooth sat down next to the white-haired boy.

Jack was crying, but he shook his head, "I'll be okay."

Tooth placed a hand on his arm.

Jack shook his head again, "It's not that hard. I'll be okay."

Tooth wrapped her arm around him and pulled him close. But Jack couldn't look away from the body of the girl he'd hated and loved.  
A sole thought raced across his mind:

_'I'm sorry, Lucy.'_


	61. Epilogue

**Thanks for the reviews, guys! I was really starting to think that nobody liked/cared about/was interested in this story anymore. But for once, I'm glad I was proved wrong!**

**So, this is the epilogue! After EIGHT MONTHS of writing this, I'm finally done!**

**Please don't ask for extra parts, deleted scenes, or anything like that. If I recieve enough reviews requesting it, I might publish a new 'story' that consists of memories as Lucy/Melinda grew up in the Realm. In eight years, imagine how much must have happened! So, if you guys want, I will add something like that.****  
**

**Oh, and one last thing. If you search this Fanfiction site, you will find the written trailer of this story (entitled 'The Sweet Serpent Trailer'), generously written by Bookworm210. Because she worked hard on it and did a splendid job at capturing the emotions, drama, and suspense of the story, please read her trailer and review it. She certainly deserves it. **

**Thank you again! And now, on with the finale!**

* * *

Epilogue

_So...was the Sweet Serpent happy in the end?_

One year later, the town of Burgess continued life as though nothing had happened at all. In the mornings, the adults hustled to their respective jobs while the children of all ages climbed on their school buses or rode their bikes to reach their school.

Jamie, now nineteen years old, was accepted in the Burgess University of Literature, with the goal of becoming a writer. He also encountered his childhood friends within the college's corridors, namely Martin, Claude, Cupcake (whose real name turned out to be Ruth), and Pippa. Needless to say, the boy was never lonely.

Jamie had changed, which wasn't a surprise to anyone. But the most noticeable change was his extinguished belief in the guardians. Even though he knew they were real, he simply left his belief behind. It was a small sacrifice to continue his voyage towards adulthood, and none of the guardians held it against him.

But nothing could make him forget his childhood friend, especially the whispers that seemed to follow him everywhere he went.

"So, there's this urban legend around here, eh? What's it called again?"

"The Sweet Serpent."

"Ah. That's an interesting name. Why's it called that?"

"Well, because anyone who saw it say that it wore a snake skull over its face."

"Cool! Has it ever been seen 'round here?"

"Lots of people claim to have seen it, especially last year. They say the Sweet Serpent's the one who killed that family. Just to use their house, imagine!"

"Aw, that's horrible!"

"Yeah, I know. Nobody really knows what it was or what it wanted, but it hasn't been seen since last year. Maybe it left, or maybe it died. Who knows?"

Jamie knew.  
He swallowed hard and found himself digging into...that diary. North had given it to him shortly after that dreadful winter morning, claiming that Jack cried whenever he saw it and that it would be best if Jamie kept it. The journal was old and worn from time, and the pages were wrinkled and yellowing. Jamie had been skeptical about reading it at first, but when he'd learned the true purpose of the diary, he'd allowed himself to read it. It had made his heart wrench, but he'd learned to live with that pain.  
Now, he found himself opening to the very first page, where a photograph had been taped. It was dated years ago, back when he'd still been a child and ignorant to the world's darkness. It displayed three people on a snowy field; white-haired Jack was hunched over to be at the same level as the kids, his skinny arms wrapped around their shoulders. Young Jamie was laughing at trying to grab Lucy's short hair; the little girl, laughing, had tried to push him away.

Sweet memories.

Jamie closed the book and stuffed it back in his backpack. Then, he continued his walk towards his class...and his future.

* * *

Away from the busy, ignorant people of Burgess, a single house stood on its own on the edge of town. It was the now-vacant house of the family who'd been butchered there. The flowers that'd been left on the front porch had long-since wilted, and the scraps of paper with prayers and kind words had been dampened by the merciless weather.

Even today, some Night Mares could be seen roaming that area, sitting on the front porch like sleeping pets or standing on the grimy roof. Sometimes, they'd stand there until the sun rose, waiting for their masters that would never return.

And even farther still, Jack's pond remained undisturbed. The small body of water remained the same: during the spring, it was green with water lillies and moss; in the winter, it was a solid block of ice that was often used for skating; in the summer, it was dried to a small, muddy puddle; in the fall, it was coated in gold, crimson, and brown fallen leaves.

Nothing had changed, except for three mounds of dirt at the pond's shore. If one looked closely, one would see that the earth was loose in those three mounds, no matter how much time passed. If you knew how to look, you'd find three scorched bodies six feet under the grassy surface.

But if, like so many others, you had learned to ignore irrationality, you would peer into the three freshly-dug holes and find nothing there at all.

* * *

For the guardians, everything remained the same, too. North, or Santa as many knew him, spent his days constructing toys out of the Pole's glass-like ice and ordering his yetis to build actual toys in his sculptures' likeness. On the outside, he seemed to have forgotten the Sweet Serpent incident and had steered his focus back to Christmas and filling a child's life with his center: Wonder.

But sometimes, when no one was looking, North would walk into one of the spare rooms. The desk would bare Molly McFadden's sketches, and now that North had the time to actually look at them, they sent slivers of ice crawling down his spine.

Many of the drawings displayed the events that had happened after her death. One exhibited Melinda clad in her cloak and bodysuit, holding Molly's head with the utmost pride. Another vaunted Jack and Melinda as two dark shadows against the moon, ready to attack each other. A third showed the girl's body after the execution: ignited nearly beyond recognition, with a bleeding hole in her heart and a smile on her face.

Molly had drawn these in a hypnotic state, almost like a dreamwalker...but if only she'd seen them before going into the Realm...she might have still been alive.

Other times, North glanced out the window and remembered watching Lucy and Jack throwing snow balls at each other, laughing and joking the entire time.

* * *

Tooth resumed the job she'd been holding for so many centuries. At first, though, it was tricky. All of her baby fairies, much to her melancholy, had been frozen by Black Ice. Therefore, she'd been forced to fall back on the old ways and collect the teeth single-handedly, with Jack Frost pitching in when he had the spare time. It took three months before she had enough time to create more miniature fairies. That's when all returned to its earlier state: she spent all day every day spouting out names, ages, locations, and lost kept children's memories and beliefs secure, just like she'd always done.

It was almost like she'd never been killed at all. But, on nights where she could lay her head down and sleep, she would reach under her silken pillow and run her fingers over a specific tooth container.

It was identical to all the others, except for one detail: the child's face printed on it. It consisted of a heart-shaped face, short, wavy russet hair, and big chestnut eyes that smiled to the world.

* * *

The Man in the Moon had one task that had been left unattended: who would be the next bringer of fear, of nightmares, of caution? In the end, he'd chosen a guardian who held the opposite responsibility.

Sandman upheld his purpose of blessing sleeping children with his golden sand, bringing their every innocent fantasy to life. But now, he had another job as well: occasionally, he gave children nightmares as well. He did not particularly like it at first, but with time, he learned that it was necessary.

In excess, too much fear can drive you mad, turn you into a paranoid wreck, or even lead you to kill yourself. But without it, people wouldn't be cautious of strangers, or fire, or any potential hazards. It was needed, and soon, Sandman accepted his new role.

He would stand on a rooftop or a tree and hold his hands up, palms up. Then, glowing ribbons of sunlight-colored sand poured out of his tiny palms and soared through the skies like birds. Sometimes, the sand would turn black on the way down, and faint crying or screaming would be audible.

On occasion, he would recieve help from some idle, lesser-known sprite that had nothing better to do. Even though Sandman never actually voiced what he wanted to do, his images were enough to answer any questions one might harbor.

One night, on the anniversary of the Sweet Serpent's death, a lowly spirit of clouds turned to the small golden man with inquiring eyes. He asked in a voice as light as a spring cloud: "What exactly _is_ a dream, sir?"

The Sandman smiled a little sadly, remembering dreams he'd given to a certain little girl who'd loved to wear black. He recalled those images as though he'd seen them the night before: the girl, now a grown woman, going to the university her parents taught at. Her recieving a degree in literature, or history. Becoming a teacher herself. Maybe marrying one of her childhood friends and starting a family.

None of those wishes had been granted.

_'I thought I told you before.'_ Sandman said in his own, silent, unique way. A sad, distant smile found its way on his face. _'A dream is simply...a deep, dear wish.'_

* * *

Aster E. Bunnymund maintained the only lifestyle he'd ever known. During the day, he either tended his carrot garden or painted his eggs in preparation of Easter. And on that year's Easter, much to his relief, he did not recieved any unwanted snow blasts from a certain gangly winter spirit. He hid millions of eggs in all of the most unlikely locations, and smiled and clapped whenever a lucky child uncovered one.

But beneath his happy exterior, he could not help think about a certain girl who would never carry another woven basket to the park. Who would never stoop down to look under benches or climb high to search for eggs in tree branches.

Try as he might, he could never wipe that palm carrying the bloody 'G' from his memory.

With a mournful simper on his furry face, Bunny thought back on the youngest guardian. In the end, the boy had done what the others should have, ending their enemies' suffering and giving them a peaceful death. And in the end, he'd been the one to end that girl's pain.

But first, he'd saved her from herself.

As gleaming tears formed in the Pooka's emeralid eyes, he thought back on something Jamie had read out loud, from that girl's diary. It had fit so well with what had happened, the words have carved themselves in the guardian's mind.

_'I wonder...'_ He thought, _'...is the man a monster, or is the monster a man?'_

* * *

Jack whooped and yelled and cawed as he leapt from a rooftop to a see-saw to a minivan, leaving a glimmering layer of frost in his wake. The incoming sunrise painted the ice a pale apricot, mesmerizing some passenger-by. As always, the invisible boy left Burgess for last (but definitely not least). Just like he'd done for over three centuries, Jack sprinkled the small town with snow and turned every liquid into a clear body of ice. Thanks to him, snow days were a frequent treat.

On the outside, he was still the mischievous prankster he'd always been.

But if one observed his behavioral patterns closely enough, they would detect one vital detail:

He avoided roads at all costs. No matter where he was, he never even set foot on a road. And if, by some stroke of bad luck, he was obligated to cross one, he kept his staff clutched to his chest.

No more car accidents occured. At least, none that he'd caused.

_'The thing that I've learned...'_

Jack jumped off the top of a car and was in the park in seconds.

_'...is that people are never simple or easy to understand. Immortal or not, they're the most complex beings in the world. They love, they hate, and they make mistakes. But whether you choose to forsake your mistakes or learn from them...to let your hatred consume you or fight it and stay true to yourself...'_

His eyes gleamed as they focused on his special spot. On those three mounds of frozen soil.

_'...determines how strong you really are.'_

Soon, Jack was sitting in front of one of the mounds. With his staff lying in the snow next to him, the immortal boy sat cross-legged. His voice echoed through the frozen forest like a lone bird roaming the skies.

"Hey, Lu." He greeted the grave cheerfully, "How've you been since I last came? Doin' all right?"

He waited for a few seconds. Was he simply playing along, or could he hear some form of reply? He would never say.

Then, he continued talking, a smile on his face. "Ah, I'm glad to hear that. See? I told you your Aunt Violet wouldn't stay mad." He brightened, like he'd just remembered something. "Oh! Did you kick your cousin's ass?"

Another brief pause, then he laughed. "Seriously? You've hidden his head? Ha!" He wiped the corner of his eye, "You're a wonder, Lu. Really, you are."

After nearly an hour of (seemingly) one-sided chattering, the white-haired boy fell into silence. His animated grin left his pale face, and his eyes darkened slightly. The shadows from the night before continued to shrink as the day arrived. He didn't really know what else to say, and this place had many painful memories for him. He'd never even told Jamie about it; he'd simply said, "She's gone." The brown-haired boy hadn't asked for any additional details, and Jack had been grateful for it.

"Well..." The boy stood up and brushed some stray snowflakes from his brown deerskin pants. "...See you next week, Lu." As he picked up his staff, he nodded at the mound next to Lucy's. "Take care of her, huh, Pitch?" With that, he jumped into the sky, heading for a destination.

Where? Who knows? Who can possibly contain the wind, or the boy who rides it?

As the boy climbed higher and higher into the paling sky, he stopped suddenly and turned around. The fiery sun was peeking out from the mountaintops, painting his snow a pale red color. It was a truly beautiful sky, and a small part of Jack was happy that he had the blessing to be able to see these wonders every day.

Maybe his eyes were playing tricks on him, but in the sky, just for a second, Jack thought he saw a small, floating black snake.

He smiled softly and held his hand out.

_'Hey, Lucy...'_

The snake turned gold for half a second before vanishing.

_'...will you watch the sunrise with me?'_


End file.
